


A Curse Upon the Land

by acidtiger



Series: A Curse Upon the Land [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Forgotten Realms
Genre: Adventure, Drow-hate, Elves, Elves are Dicks, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Half-Elves, Human, Magic, Quests, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-06 14:51:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 27,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10337004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acidtiger/pseuds/acidtiger
Summary: A loose adaptation of a Curse of Ravenloft campaign I'm playing in.A budding romance between two characters lead me to a 'What If' daydream/inspiration situation, and now here it is, on 'paper'.I've tried to keep the spirit of the characters in tact, but as they were created by others, there is some divergence.DISCLAIMER: The Original Characters belong to their respective player/creator. The NPCs and setting are not my own, I have shaped/adapted them to suit my needs, but they are the property of Wizards of the Coast.





	1. An Introduction

Alleria had been tracking a hunting party of Orcs through the Shadowdale, when she caught wind of another trail in the immediate area. As an Elf, she was torn between following the group of orcs – her mortal enemy - and following the new trail, which reeked of undeath.  As a Druid, one of Mother Nature’s warriors, the unnaturalness of it couldn’t be ignored. She altered course, following the new path. Tracking through the night, she closed in on the source of the corruption.  Alleria had been granted, by the Mother, the ability to shift her form into that of any animal, so it was in the guise of a large predatory cat that she loped stealthily through the dark forest.

A thick mist rolled in from nowhere, blanketing the forest floor and cloaking her surroundings. Before she fully understood the scope of it, it had enveloped her immediate area completely. Her keen senses, which were normally perfectly suited for nocturnal tracking, failed her. The white cat stumbled blindly through the thick haze. When it lifted, and she could see and hear again, it was very quickly clear to the Elven Druid that she was no longer in the Dalelands.

The mist that had surrounded her in the Shadowdale lingered here as well, dissipating by the second.  Everything, from the ground cover, the trees, the sky and the very smell of the land was different. Jarringly so. This place was wrong. A shiver ran down her long feline spine. The stench of rot and decay was also more prevalent here. Unsure of what had just happened, Alleria went with the immediately obvious choice – find and kill the Undead.

After a hundred meters or so of scent alone, the sounds of battle rose to join the trail. With stealth no longer needed, Alleria shape-shifted into her favored form – a giant white dire wolf with bright blue eyes. The ritual scarification that covered her skin in Elven form transferred over to her animal appearance as well.  It was those strange marks upon her pelt that had saved her from accidents or misunderstandings in the past, as they clearly marked her as a druid. But, she had no way of knowing that the group she was moving towards to aid, had had bloody run ins in this realm with both druids and wolves. The latter plagued the land, on two feet as well as four.

Alleria arrived at the edge of a clearing, a battle laid out before her. At first sight, a group of five or six were fighting a horde of skeletons and shadows. In the air, above them, a sinister man dressed in black and red hovered on a flying Nightmare. Draped across his lap was what looking like a female form in leather armor. Directly beneath the demonic horse, and acting crazed, was a badger the size of a bear.  

After assessing the situation for a moment, Alleria charged out from the brush, attacking a trio of skeletal knights with a vicious ferocity. She did a fair job of wearing them down, but ultimately, it was a pair of men with swords and shields that finished them off. Alleria guessed they were either paladin or priest, as they fought with holy damage. The battle was bloody, but well fought and the undead minions were quickly dispatched of. Unfortunately, the group was unable to rescue their comrade from the man on the flying horse. They had flown off into the darkening sky, the mad badger racing after them.

She recognized the two armored men as a Human and Half-Elf. Not far behind them a Human female and two other fair skinned Half-Elves approached. None of them looked particularly in the mood to be making new friends; battered and disturbed by their companion’s abduction.  Despite this, she made the decision to reveal herself.

She quickly reversed her decision when an obsidian skinned Half-Elf joined the them. Rankled by the sight of the Drow, even a half-breed, caused her to think better of revealing herself just yet. She slipped back into the woods, skulking away so that she might follow and observe further.

After the run in with the undead, the group walked for nearly two more full days. Along the road, in the middle of nowhere, it was easy for Alleria to follow them closely. She learned a great deal about them, and this strange realm, from snippets of their conversation.  The Cleric, and what she assumed was a Bard, seemed to be the most boisterous of the lot, with the former spending a great deal of time bemoaning the lack of ale in the realm. His complaints were often met from the others speaking favorably about the wine of the area.

When they stopped to forage, or make camp, she was better able to get a feel for them. From the sounds of the plans they were making, they were on a quest to rid the land of some great evil. Her assumption was, that it had something to do with the ominous man on the flying horse.

Alleria followed them all the way to a dreary town by the name of Vallaki. When they entered, she continued to follow, but under the cover of a travelling cloak instead. They visited a local church, where they were joined by a young man and woman. Alleria took them for locals, and possibly brother and sister. She finally decided to reveal herself to them. No longer trying to hide herself under cover of the crowd, she made herself more noticeable.

Outside an Inn, the dark-haired Paladin paused and turned to look back and the throng of townsfolk.

“Come out, you have nothing to fear from us.” He called out. They had become accustomed to being followed perhaps. As strangers to area, they did stick out like sore thumbs. Despite this, he didn’t seem to know exactly who had been tracking them, he couldn’t pick her out of the crowd.

The Half-Elf Cleric spoke next, “Aye, show yourself. If you be friend, we will drink together and share our tale.”

At that, Alleria stepped out of the crowed, pulling back her hood to reveal herself.

“I am Alleria Moonshadow, of the Dalelands. I see from your garb and speech that you are also from Faerun.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Aye, fair Elf, we too are strangers to this land, brought here by a strange mist. I am Mason Carpenter, a humble priest of the The Captain of the Waves, Valkur. This here is Dhamon Grim, Paladin of Torm. The human lass with the bow is Baasha, the two other Half-Elves are Keening and Quintis and…” The members of the group nodded as they were introduced. When he went to introduce the half-Drow, he seemed inclined to speak for himself.

“Tallonon Bloodborn.” He said with a slight edge as he watched Alleria closely, trying to guess her reaction.

Alleria’s reaction was one of complete non-reaction as she completely ignored the dark-skinned Half-Elf.

Seeing the snub, Dhamon spoke up. “We have traveled with Tallonon since coming to this land. He had proven himself a good and loyal ally.”

“Aye, fair-one.” Mason addressed her once again. “The rest of us with Elven blood have accepted him. Judge him not by his blood please, but by his actions.”

Tallonon seemed completely put off by the She-Elf’s rudeness and stomped off to the door of the Inn, disappearing inside.

Assuming that her acceptance by the group was not contingent on making friends with all of them, she followed the others into the Inn as well. It was there, over mediocre food yet fine wine, that they exchanged tales.

Mason had been right about the lack of ale, but the wine was better than average. The more he consumed, the chummier he got towards her.  Despite his drinking, he was pleasant enough, so she took no offense.

The others were more concerned with filling in their new traveling companion about their arrival in Barovia, the quest bestowed by the Vistani Gypsies and all they had learned about the Vampire Lord Strahd.

“The blade I carry is one of the items the Vistani sent us to find.” Dhamon explained over a bowl of stew.

“It is supposed to disrupt Strahd’s regeneration, which is rumored to be far superior to that of an average vampire.” Tallonon added. Alleria’s attention still on Dhamon though. The Half-Drow scowled and snatched up his drink, brooding over it.

Mason was far too tipsy this time to intervene on behalf of his dark-skinned friend. He was far more intent on finding out the secret to getting Alleria into his bed.  An attempt that was going nowhere, as she seemed equally intent on ignoring him. Both she and Dhamon did their best to talk over, and around him.

“We also have the Tome of Strahd. That part was fairly simple.” Dhamon dipped his head towards a table in the corner of the common room. Quintis and Keening were chatting up a trio of local girls with loud and no doubt exaggerated tales of their battles. Quintis, seemed to be fairing much better with the ladies than Keening. Though both were handsome enough, Quintis had a roguish air around him.

The Paladin continued, “Quintis has been studying the tome, to see if its contents can be of any use.”

Baasha glanced over as well, rolling her eyes as caught sight of the gregarious behavior of her two traveling companions.

Alleria also noticed the two locals that the group had met up with at the church. They were in a heated, hushed discussion in another corner of the large room. Alleria jerked her head in their direction, “What is their part in this?”

“Ahh, yes. Ismark and Ireena. Their father was the Burgomaster of the Village of Barovia. Ireena had garnered the attention of Strahd, and Ismark beseeched us to bring her here, thinking she would be safer here than their little village. It is my understanding though, that there have been several odd occurrences, and attacks on the church since we dropped them off.” Dhamon glanced over at the siblings, who were still heatedly debating something. “She wishes to go to Krazk with us, to meet with the Abbot. He wishes her to stay.”

Alleria nodded at the information, but as it didn’t appear to directly affect their quest, she steered the conversation back to that topic.  “So all that remains is the Holy Symbol?”

“I’d like to show you my holy symbol.” Mason said with a bit of a slur and a rakish grin plastered on his rosy cheeked face.

Baasha snickered behind her glass, but Tallonon snorted derisively, apparently having his fill of the conversation. He pushed his chair away from the table loudly and left the common room without another word.

“Correct. We don’t have a lead on the relic itself, but the local priest has suggested we try the Abbey in Krazk. The Abbot is supposed to be a rather…unique and powerful individual. He might have some direction for us.” Dhamon said before taking another drink of wine, his mouth dry from all talk.

“We should pay the Burgomaster a visit as well.” Baasha commented, pushing the remnants of her strew around in her near empty bowl. She glanced over at the retreating Tallonon, her brow furrowing slightly.

Alleria’s gaze followed Baasha’s, but she said nothing. She just couldn’t bring herself to have anything to do with the white haired Half-Elf.  The bad blood between her kind and Drow went too deep.  This was compounded by the fact he was a Warlock, and the practice of infernal magics further rubbed her the wrong way.

Their attention was snapped back to their table at the sound of a loud THUMP! Baasha started, dropping her spoon. Mason had passed out, his head hitting the table unceremoniously.

With a sigh, Dhamon put down his glass, “A hand, Baasha?”

The dark-haired huntress gave a mild look of disdain in response to Mason’s over indulgence, but she stood to help none the less. Both she and Dhamon grabbed an arm and hauled the inebriated sailor across the room and up the stairs. Alleria followed, a mild look of amusement on her lips. She did not go upstairs though, instead finding a place to sit at the foot of them. Making herself comfortable, she started her nightly meditations.


	2. The Hair of the Wolf that Bit Ya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Party has a run in with the local guards and then continue on their way to Krazk, in search of answers.
> 
> * * *

                Alleria was the first one into the common room for breakfast, and was joined shortly after by Baasha and Dhamon. Halfway through the meal Tallonon came down from the second floor. He looked far less surly than he had the night before. That was until he saw Alleria and his glower returned. The three had finished their morning meal before Mason, Quintis and Keening entered the common room.  The trio of Half-Elves looked a little worse for wear, with Mason looking particularly rough around the edges. Keening’s curls were flattened to the side of his head on one side, giving him a comedic look. Grumbling bitterly about the lack of ale, and what sounded like having been bitten by a dog, Mason plunked himself down at a barstool.

                The three late arrivals didn’t get a chance to order anything to eat, as they were all interrupted by a racket outside the Inn. The sound of a women in distress carried through the half open windows of the common room. Dhamon and Baasha both went to investigate, while the rest hung back, either waiting by the door or retuning to the bar to finish their morning meal

                Mason sidled un to Alleria, who was waiting by the door. “I had the most intriguing dream last night. I was running through the woods at night, under a full moon. I was being chased by pack of wolves. When they caught me, a great she-wolf pinned me to the ground. She changed into a beautiful elf and had her way with me.” He gave her a sidelong glance, trying his best to look coy. “Whatever do you think it might mean?”

                “I think it means you should not drink so much in the evening. Or, not go into the woods by yourself at night.” She replied, dryly, not taking his bait.

                Mason laughed good-naturedly. He wasn’t going to accept defeat any time soon. Hearing the voices outside getting louder, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and gestured for Alleria to step outside. Following her, Mason stepped outside as well. Keening and Quintis protested mildly about not getting to finish their breakfast, but trailed along after them.

                The scene in the street outside the Inn was tense. A group of city guards, their Captain, Ireena and Ismark were squared off. Flanked by a pair of his men, the guard captain was holding Ireena by the wrist. She was protesting loudly while trying to wrest her arm back. Ismark was shouting at the guards but had not gotten physical yet.

                The most disturbing thing about the scene was guard captain’s left arm. It was shriveled and gnarled, completely unnatural looking - perhaps even demonic in origin.

               “Valkur deliver me from this tempest of torment!” Mason said, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as his dry morning eyes adjusted to the change in light.

                Dhamon stepped forward. “Excuse us, good Captain, but that young woman and her brother are under our care.” He was polite and calm, his dark green eyes full of determination.

               “Mind your own business, outsiders. This doesn’t concern you.” The guard captain said with a brutal sneer. He kept his grip firm on Ireena’s arm.

               “She’s MY sister! Ismark shouted.

               “You idiot. You don’t actually believe that, do you? The guard captain spat back. “She doesn’t look a thing like you!”

               “Who cares whose damned sister she is?” Mason shot back. This inconvenience was keeping him from his breakfast and he was cranky. “All of this shouting isn’t going to make a difference either way.

               The guardsmen moved in to close ranks around their superior.

              “She’s under our protection, so let go of her our we’re going to have a problem.” It was Quintis who had spoken up. He normally preferred to remain quiet, being more of a man of action than words.

               The rest of the group moved up to stand around Dhamon and Alleria followed suit. The show of solidarity caused the guards to withdraw slightly and the captain let go of Ireena’s wrist. His other hand though, the demonic looking one, was raised up, threatening. With menace in his voice, he said, “You should all leave. Now. While you are still able.”

              “We were planning on departing this morning. So long as Ireena is not barred from doing so with us, we will be on our way.” Dhamon said firmly. His emerald eyes shifted from the captain’s face, to his monstrous arm briefly.

              Free from his grip, Ireena moved to stand behind Ismark. Quintis moved in, to where Ireena had been standing, to flank the guard captain. He gave Ireena a quick glance, checking to see that she was okay, before looking back to the threat at hand.

             The tension in the air was palpable. Despite having let go of her, the guard captain appeared to have no desire to let her leave. He nodded his head to a pair of guards and they moved in on either side of the brother and sister.

              “This can still be solved peacefully.” Dhamon said, trying to sound positive, yet firm.

               Feeling threatened by Quintis being so close to their leader, the guards moved in closer, twitchy and eager hands gripping their pike’s tightly. One of the guards overstepped and bumped into his captain, who in turn stumbled a step forward. With that demonic hand of his, he reached out for the closest thing to steady himself. That, unfortunately, was Dhamon’s raised shield. Mistaking his stumbling for a lunge, the city guards lowered their pikes, stepping forward to attack. 

                Dhamon, Quintis and Mason did the same, drawing weapons. Tallonon began to incant and Alleria parted the small crowed by shapeshifting into the large dire wolf. Somewhere off to the side, Keening drew – a small hand drum – and began to tap out a warm up tune.

                The scene was about to dissolve into a full-on skirmish when an imperious voice called out above the crowd.

                “Izsak, what is the meaning of this. I will not have such thuggish violence in my streets, especially with the Fire Festival so soon. Your men should be overseeing preparations, not harassing the good people of Vallaki and their guests.”

                The voice belonged to an overstuffed looking man dressed in fine garb on a grey stallion. He had on the most ridicules looking oversized hat with a red feather sticking from it. Beside him, on a light brown horse, was a woman dressed in an equal level of finery. She didn’t speak, but the look on her face would suggest she was extremely put off by the disruption.

                “But, Sir.” Izsak was reluctant to have his men put down their arms. “The outsiders. They will ruin your festival.

                “Nonsense.” Said the Burgomaster. “They will love it, just like the townsfolk. Tell your men to lower their weapons. We wouldn’t want to scare off our guests, would we?”

                Izsak sneered at Dhamon with pure hatred in his eyes.

                Working on the assumption, as he had not yet introduced himself, Dhamon looked past the guards and took a step towards the man on the horse.

                “Burgomaster, while we would love to attend your festival, we have urgent business in Krazk.” The Paladin explained and then added, “At the Abbey.” He hoped mentioning the Abbot would add weight to his request to be excused.

                The large man’s unruly eyebrows raised up high at the mention of the Abbey. “Oh, well, in that case, we shouldn’t keep you any longer. Please, Izsak, have your guards step aside so that our new friends may depart.”

                Izsak took a step back and waved off his guards to do the same. “This isn’t over…” he hissed at Dhamon through gritted teeth.

                As the crowed started to disperse and the guards move off, the Burgomaster turned his horse and he and his wife departed as well.

                “Well, now, that was exciting.” Mason commented to no one in particular and idly reached up to ruffle the thick fur of the dire wolf’s neck.

                It was either the overly familiar act of stroking her fur, or perhaps being treated like a common pet, that caused the large lupine to snap at Mason. She caught part of his hand in her mouth, drawing blood.

                “Omberlee’s tits!” Mason exclaimed as he jerked his bloody hand back. Cradling his arm gingerly, he eyed the she-wolf warily. “I hope, where you are from, that is not considered foreplay.” The priest added, his expression mellowing as he healed the injury to his hand. Behind him, Baasha and Keening sniggered and the latter handed over a gold piece to the former.

                Tallonon spoke up, “We should get a start on our journey. We have a lot of ground to cover and I would like to put distance between us and that Izsak fellow.”

                “Agreed.” Said Dhamon as he put his sword away and slung his shield over his back. He moved over to where Ireena and Ismark were standing, talking quietly to them as they made their way to the gate.

                Quintis and Keening ducked back into the Inn to grab their packs and something for the road while Mason and Baasha followed along after Dhamon and Tallonon. The dire wolf cast its bright blue eyes over at Izsak, studying that demonic arm of his before trotting off to catch up to the group.


	3. Side Quest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventurers reach Krazk, only to find they won't be allowed in until the prove their 'friendship' to the Burgomaster.
> 
> * * *

                The trek to Krazk was, thankfully, without incident. Without attack, at least. Discussions shifted back and forth between the quest at hand, the first thing each would do when they returned home and speculation on the origins of Izsak’s disfigured arm. There had also been hushed conversations between Ireena and Ismark, of which Dhamon joined in on occasion, but Alleria disregarded for the most part.

                The first night of their journey had them making camp on the side of the road. They were half way to Krazk, the Abbey and hopefully answers.  Alleria was surprised, but grateful, that one of her new friends had some skill in cooking. She and Baasha trapped a handful of game birds which Quintis turned into the best meal Alleria had had in a very long time.

                Keening, who had no skills when it came to cooking, camp making or anything particularly useful when it came to marching through the countryside, earned his keep by entertaining those who could. His long blond curls bobbed around his face as he played and sang emphatically.  It was a little ditty about a naive princess oh-so fair and a handsome, yet shameless, Elven adventurer. Some of the lyrics made Ireena blush and Quintis joked it could be about his parents, had his mother been a princess and not the daughter of a traveling merchant.

                After a fine meal and dubious entertainment, they decided on a watch order and bedded down for the night. Alleria had offered to keep watch the first half of the night, and trance the second part. It meant that the others could get more sleep. One by one, the others drifted off. All but Mason.

                 “Copper for your thoughts?” Mason asked, scooting up beside Alleria by the edge of the fire. 

                 “Only a copper?” she asked with a slight smile. “I would have thought with your dogged determination; you would find me worth more than a copper.”

                 “Aye, maybe I did, but then you bit me.” He jibed.

                 “You were petting me, like a common dog. You touched me, without permission. You deserved it.” She explained, sounding completely matter-of-factly. “Get some sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” She stole a sidelong glance or two, but in the flickering flames of the fire his features looked harsh and unappealing, a stark contrast from their usual rugged handsomeness.

                 “Was that it? I’m more than happy to play the dog, if you want to do the petting instead.” He tilted his head in her direction in offering.

                She reached out to push him away. “You are more of a mule, than a dog, Mason.” Her tone was light and teasing.

                 “You might be right there…” he said with a smirk. He could see she wouldn’t be giving in to him tonight though, and rather than get bitten again, he returned to his bedroll to sleep.

                She watched his still body for a while and then turned her attention back to their surroundings, on guard for trouble.

* * *

                The second day of walking was much like the first, uneventful and full of chatter. Keening entertained them with a series of songs and limericks throughout the better part of the day. The singing stopped when he was distracted by Mason and Quintis’ heated discussion on where to find the best Ale on the Sword Coast. 

                Tallonon and Dhamon were deep in discussion about where they should try next, if the Abbott turned out to be of no help. Alleria, who was walking behind them, was content to listen without contributing. She hadn’t been in Barovia long enough to know of the places that might be of help, for now, it was best that she listened and learned.

                At times, when the two planners would fall silent in thought, she would catch Mason’s voice behind her. She was loathed to admit it, but her mind had wandered occasionally to him since their brief talk last night.

                 “He’s been like that since the get go.”

                Alleria turned to see Baasha. The brunette had fallen into step beside her, her bow slung over her shoulder while her hands worked over an arrow, checking it for flaws. She jerked her head towards the trio of Half-Elves.

                 “You’d never know we’d been ripped from our homeland against our will and lasted with killing a nigh immortal bloodsucking despot.” She said in a dry, humorless tone. “No, you’d think we were out on some pre-wedding oat sowing romp.”

                 “Ah.” Alleria said with a nod of understanding. It didn’t matter to her what they did during down time, so long as she could count on them during a fight.

                Baasha seemed to read the Druid’s mind, “Not that I care, mind you. I just want to get home. So long as those fools can help get that done, I’m fine.

                 “Agreed.” Alleria murmured. She really shouldn’t, but she added, “You prefer Tallonon?” She kept her voice soft, so that the others wouldn’t hear. And to try to keep her revulsion hidden.

                Baasha laughed, nearly dropping the arrow in her hands as she shook. “He’s very pretty, that much is true, but no, no eyes for Tallonon.”

                Bored with the debate over ale quality, Keening began a song about a barmaid with loose morals and wicked Tiefling.  Alleria noted, that most of his songs so far were about the deflowering or impregnating of hapless women.  It was starting to grate on her nerves.

                 “Keening.” She called out to the bard. “Do you know anything that doesn’t center around the deflowering of a barmaid or farmer’s daughter?  Baasha and I are starting to feel woefully under represented.”

                The Bard cleared his throat and started a new song, this time free of deflowering. The new one was a haunting tale of a cursed prince that was forced to travel his realm in the guise of a monster as he searched for true love. It wasn’t quite what she had been looking for, but it was still an improvement. It carried them through the final part of their journey to Krazk.

* * *

                Tired and hungry, they finally reached the gates of Krazk right before nightfall. Much to their chagrin though, the guards would not let them enter. Dhamon convinced the guards to fetch their Burgomaster, so that he might speak with him instead. Still, they were refused entry.

                 “You are no friend of Krazk.” The thin, wispy haired man explained. “But, if you were to do something for us, then we would be friends.”

                Tallonon asked, “What would you have us do?” he sounded tired and frustrated. They all were.

                 “Would you at least allow our two friends in…” Dhamon motioned to Ireena and Ismark. “…they are the children of the late Burgomaster of the Village of Barovia. It would be a real show of respect and kindness…”

                 “Indeed, and we would gladly show such kindness. To. Our. Friends. Surely you have been in Barovia long enough to have learned the importance of friendship.”

                Irritated that they were getting nowhere, Alleria cut in. “Just tell us what we need to do and we will see to it.” She asked with an unmistakable sharpness in her voice.

                The frail old leader chuckled. “Directness. I approve. We have been troubled lately by a pack of werewolves. We believe they have taken up in a cave to the east. Take care of them and you will have earned our everlasting friendship.”

                Muttering to herself, Alleria nodded. “Good enough. We shall take care of it.”

                 “Werewolves? But I’m allergic.” Keening joked, and Quintis nudged him, smirking.

                 “What about Ismark and Ireena? We can’t take them into a wolves’ den.” Mason asked, in a moment of seriousness that Alleria had yet to see from him.

                Dhamon turned away from the gate, to the group, his brows raised as if waiting for suggestions.

                “I have something that will help.” Tallonon said, taking a few steps away from the main gate and the group.  Still in plain view of the guards, the Warlock started incanting in some nefarious sounding tongue that none of them understood. Dark energies swirled around a patch of ground and it erupted, twisting and contorting as it formed a dome of dirt and tree roots.  It was as tall as a person, with a single opening at its front. “They will be safe in there until we return. No one can enter or leave but us.”

                “Good, that is that taken care of at least.” Mason said with a clap of his hands. “Now let’s go skin us some wolves.” He glances over to Alleria. “No offense, of course.”

                “None taken.” She murmured.

* * *

                It wasn’t far to the cave the Burgomaster had described to them. Without Ireena and Ismark, they had made good time as well. The starts had just started winking into existence when they stopped at the mouth of the den.  There were no sounds of life, but gnawed on bones and a faint whiff of rotten meat suggested there were predators deeper inside.

                The mouth of the cave was large enough that one could have driven a wagon into it. The group ventured inside, two by two, with ease. Quintis vanished immediately, sneaking off on his own to follow along in the shadows. As they went deeper into the cave, it grew darker and Dhamon was forced to use the light from the Sunsword. Those who could see darkness squinted and blinked as their eyes adjusted. Dhamon and Baasha were now able to see better.

                If the mouth of the cave had been big enough for a single wagon, the cavern it opened up to was large enough for half a dozen. The back of the cave had a raised ledge and a narrow passage on either side. The light from Dhamon’s sword had also revealed sets of red eyes that were clinging to the last pockets of darkness in various nooks and crannies.

                Up on top of the ledge in the back there were three harry, lupine humanoid figures.  They appeared extremely angry to have been interrupted in the middle of their evening meal. The largest one called out, in barely decipherable common, “Kill them!” The two werewolves on either side, leapt form their spots and dashed towards the group.

                Around her, Alleria’s companions drew their weapons and picked their targets. She took a step back, away from the group, and transformed into a giant elk.  She was so large, her antlers nearly scraped their ceiling of the cave.

                Mason took a moment to goggle at the creature now standing wear Alleria had been, though he recovered quickly. “Nice rack!” He said with a laugh as he drew his scimitar.

                On all sides, large wolves were stepping from the shadows, snarling and gnashing their teeth. They weren’t as large as Alleria in her dire wolf form, but they were definitely larger than the average wolf. They looked sickly as well, foaming at the mouth and vacant in the eyes.

                The current odds suggested the fight wouldn’t be difficult or last too long. The pair of werewolves moved quickly, almost as quick as the scruffy wolves. One of them beelined for Dhamon, the other for Mason. All four of the wolves closed in and circled the great Elk. The wolves lunged in and out, snapping and snarling at the giant elk. She was the perfect distraction, allowing Quintis and Keening to move in behind the four legged foes. The third werewolf slipped off down the dark tunnel behind the ledge.

                Baasha and Tallonon stayed at a distance. The archer fired two arrows in rapid succession, sinking one into the first werewolf’s chest, the other into its leg. It had been about to strike at Dhamon, but the force of the two arrows caused him to stumble slightly.  Tallonon concentrated on the other, who had lunged for Mason and started murmuring a spell.  The half-Drow waited for Mason to strike first though, and when the Cleric’s sword cut deep into the beast’s shoulder, the Warlock let loose his spell. The dark magic’s hit the beast square in the chest, tearing into its flesh and sending it flying backwards. It hit the cave wall and slumped down into a heap, leaving a blood stained down the rock wall.

                Dhamon had enough time to brace himself for the incoming attack. The werewolf tried to tackle him, but Dhamon brought his shield up, just in time, to block. The Paladin swung his sword in retaliation, but he missed. He slammed into the beast’s side soundly, knocking him to the ground.

                Ignoring the wolves biting at her heels, the shapeshifted Elf struck at the creature with both its hooves. The attack was devastating enough to knock the lupine attacker out cold.

                In all the commotion, Keening managed to put a pair of the wolves asleep, while Quintis easily dispatched the pair he had been flanking. Before Alleria could catch up with what was going on behind her, Baasha finished off the two sleeping wolves with an arrow each.

                “Anyone hurt?” Dhamon asked, even though their foes never landed a blow. He wanted to make sure no one had been infected.

                Keening and Quintis each went to one of the werewolves, making sure they were indeed dead and to search them for coin. The one that had been knocked across the cavern was clearly dead, and coinless as well. As Keening bent over the one that Alleria had trampled, it jerked to life, grabbing wildly and growling at the Bard.

                “Keening!” Baasha called out, as she grabbed for an arrow. Alleria turned her great antlered head towards Keening and Dhamon made a quick dash forward, his sword outstretched.

                It was Tallonon that was fastest though, uttering a single magic word that caused the thrashing lycanthrope to go stiff and immobile. It was frozen, its fangs only inches from sinking into Keening’s left arm. Baasha’s arrow whizzed past Dhamon, sinking deep into the monster’s face, the shaft nearly having taken off the Bard’s nose the altercation was so close quartered.  Unable to fall over dead, the werewolf just hunt there, bleeding onto Keening.

                “Valkur’s weedy beard, that was close!” Mason exclaimed as he walked over to offer his friend a hand up.

                “Aye.” Agreed Dhamon as he loved over to the Half-Drow and Human. “Good save and masterful shot.”

                “We should check the rest of the cave. There were three of them, remember?” Baasha pointed out. “I can’t imagine only three werewolves would be giving the town so much trouble.”

                Mason glanced from the two dead werewolves to the dead dire wolves and back to the dead humanoids once again. “Do you think the wolves are their pets? Or?”

                “Mason…” Baasha looked disturbed by her suggestion and Alleria-Elf snorted loudly, scraping at the ground with a hoof.

                “I don’t know!” He exclaimed, laughing. “Our Lady Alleria is fairly alluring in her fire wolf form.” He teased and then gave the Elk a playful slap on its flank.  The large creature turned its hard sharply and exhaled loudly - and wetly - in the Cleric’s face.

                “Could be worse, ‘least she didn’t bite me this time.” He said, glibly. The large Elk leaned in, shoving the much smaller Half-Elf back a step and out of her way. The shapeshifted Druid eyed him for a long moment before breaking into a trot towards the back of the cave.

                The cave narrowed in the back, looping around behind the raised area. The smell of rot lingered there as well, and the group followed the stink like a clearly marked trail. They did their best to remain quiet, but Dhamon’s armor made that nearly impossible. They hadn’t travelled that far when faint whimpering sounds drifted up the tunnel. It caused them all to pause.

Mason whispered to the rest of the group, “Sounds like children.”

                “Could be animals. Food. Maybe?” Dhamon replied

                “No, definitely children.” Mason replied.

“The guards didn’t say anything about missing children.” Baasha whispered.

                “Could be their kids. Werewolf kids.” Tallonon mused, rubbing his chin in thought.

                The Elk chuffed, shaking her head violently in disgust. The idea of them biting and infecting children was unforgivable to her.

                Quintis made a ‘stop-talking’ gesture and crept on ahead to scout out the tunnel. The rest ceased their chatter and they gave the Rogue a comfortable lead. When no signal came for them to stay put, they followed.  The tunnel narrowed, making it a tight fit for the large Elk, and she head to tilt her head at an awkward angle to fit her antlers through. It eventually widened to a larger cave, like the one they had just left. Quintis was nowhere to be seen.

                It was dimly lit with torches, though Dhamon’s sword soon brightly illuminated the entire cave.  At the far wall, there was looking like a small shrine, complete with an altar. It was complete with a mysterious hooded figure that was crouched down at the shrine, muttering to itself. On either side of the altar were small rickety wooden cages, each with a sobbing child locked inside.

                The cloaked worshipper hadn’t, despite the brighter light filling the cave, noticed them yet. But, one of the children had. Reaching out, it started howling, “Save us! Please!”

                “No one is going to save you, you little urchins.” Came a scratchy little voice from under the hood. The figure still hadn’t clued into their presence.

                More than happy to oblige, the group took advantage of the element of surprise. The large Elk shaped Elf charged forward, clearing the full distance of the cavern with ease. She struck the hooded figure in the back, knocking her fully to the ground.

                Dhamon quirked a brow as the great deer charged in without warning. He rushed in as well, hot on its heels. He was followed closely behind by Mason.  Quintis stepped out of the shadows, sprinting in to take up position by the Elk’s side.  Baasha knocked an arrow, but held back with Tallonon and Keening, watchful. There was at least one other werewolf somewhere in the cavern.

                The children were crying and wailing at the top of their lungs by now. The ruckus had caught the attention of others, elsewhere in the cave.

                When the cloaked woman finally got to her feet, she gave the Elk and Quintis the evil eye. “How dare you!” she croaked as she steadied herself with her gnarled wooden staff. The holy symbol around her neck was finally evident, and it was one they had seen before.

                Alleria tried to trample the dark druid, rearing up on her hind legs. The older druid was spryer than she looked and darted to the side to avoid it. She retaliated with a jerk of her staff and a magic word. A loud crack and a thunderous shockwave sent Alleria flying backwards, nearly bowling over Baasha. Quintis managed to roll to the side to avoid it, springing back up into his feet with ease when he was clear.

                Mason grabbed his holy symbol and focused his attention on his devotion to Valkur. Calling on his assistance for a boon, Quintis, Dhamon and the giant Elk all shimmered with a blue light for a moment, as if covered in a sea-mist.

                Dhamon moved to strike the cloaked druid on the arm. Lightening quick and agile, Quintis struck as well, sinking his rapier into her side.  The figure shrieked defiantly and prepared to cast again, but Dhamon raised his shield and shoved the Druid hard, slamming her to the floor once again.   Alleria charged back in, and as she was on the ground, the other druid was unable to dodge this time. The Elk brought both its front hooves down on her, trampling her roughly.

                Between the sounds of battle and the shrieking of the frightened children, the group at ranged was almost caught unawares. By the time Baasha realized they were being flanked, their foes were a mere five or six feet away.

                 “Behind us!” she called out as she spun around, knocking an arrow as she did. Keening hurried forward a few steps, trying to put a safe distance between himself and the trio of creatures. Tallonon was quicker, and like Baasha, was already preparing an attack as he spun around to face the new foes.

                Baasha’s arrow and Tallonon’s searing blast both hit the werewolf on their right. The twin strikes wounded, but did not disable the beast completely. Keening, getting a hold of himself, concentrated on the uninjured werewolf and then, as if the beast had just heard an amusing story, fell onto its back in a fit of highly unsettling laughter. Both its comrade and the dire wolf seemed stunned by the strange actions of their packmate.

                Seizing the moment, Mason bravely ran forward, past Baasha and the two Half-Elves. Calling out, “Valkur guide my hand!” he slashed at the injured werewolf with his scimitar. Blood sprayed from the deep gash in his neck, splattering his laughing packmate and dire wolf.

                The werewolf Druid tried to get up again, but the crone was clearly surrounded this time. “I surrender!” She croaked, holding her grimy hands up in the air. “Please, mercy.”

                 “Call off the other!” Dhamon demanded, holding his sword tip in her face.

                 “Yes, yes of course.” She said, raising her voice. “You lot, back off. Stand aside…” she called out, though she couldn’t get a clear view of what was happening to the others.

                Her words fell on deaf ears, as the remaining werewolf was on the ground still, suffering from a fit of magical laughter.  The wolf stood by its side, looking confused. It didn’t attack, instead taking a defense stance over the werewolf.

Dhamon took a step back, allowing the evil druid room to stand up. Quintis stepped away to free the children from their cages. They clung to him, their filthy faces tear streaked and terrified. Alleria shapeshifted back to her natural form and went to check on the children as well.

                Mason stared down the wolf, on guard, as he unshouldered his pack to unhitch a coil of rope from its side.  He handed it to Keening, “Tie the other one up.” He did his best to position himself between the protective wolf and Keening.  Baasha had moved in closer as well, knocking an arrow and training it on the laughing werewolf. Tallonon moved up to join Dhamon to inspect the alter.

                On the wall behind the small shrine a human tanned skin hung from the wall. The crude altar was a wooden statue of a wolf-headed woman. Wreathes of flowers and vines, as well as human and animal body pieces were draped upon it. Piled at the bottom if it was various bits and bobs of treasure.

                As Dhamon had allowed her the space, the crone stood up, dusting her hands off on her robe. With her hood now pushed back, her features were now in full view. She may have sounded like an old woman, but she didn’t appear to be even middle age.

                 “You shouldn’t be here. You need to go. The others will return home soon from the hunt. They will not take kindly to how you have treated their pack mother.” She wanted.

                 “We are not worried about your pack, old woman. These are not the first werewolves we’ve faced.” Dhamon informed her. “And who are you then?”

                 “I am Zuleika, mate of Email, leader of this pack.”

                 “Who is this shrine to, what foul god are you worshiping?” It was Tallonon who asked, but Alleria looked over at the sound of the question, curious as well.

                Zuleika hissed, “Mother Night is not foul. She is our mother. Mother of all werewolves.”

                Alleria looked thoughtful for a moment, “Perhaps an aspect of Selune?” She looked distastefully at the alter and the cages that once held the children. She didn’t seem to have much faith in her own assertion.

                “More like the flipside of the coin.” Mason offered and Alleria nodded in agreement.

                “What should we do with her?” Asked Baasha, “And the other?”

                The other werewolf had stopped laughing and was now quietly struggling against its bonds. Keening gave it a warning kick, frowning at it.

                “We’ll take them back to Krazk. They will be judged for their crimes. Tie her up too.” Dhamon said, jerking his head towards Zuleika.

                “You will regret this!” she croaked as Tallonon bound her wrists. “The others will come for me and your villagers will pay the price.”

                “How long has your mate and the rest of the pack been away?” the half-Drow asked as he knotted the rope.

                “Five days.” Her voice wavered slightly.

                “We killed half a dozen werewolves a few days back. Pretty sure the villagers will be fine.” He said with a smug satisfaction.

                Alleria raised a brow, but Quintis leaned in and explained: “It was the night before you joined us.”

                A dark frown formed on Zuleika’s face. “Coincidence!” We are not the only pack in Barovia!”

                Tallonon shoved her, pushing her into motion towards the other werewolf.  The dire wolf growled, but the other werewolf snarled at it. “Stay!”. He didn’t want it following them to the same doom.

                They made their way through the cave, back out to the forest. It was still dark out, the night being barely half over.

                The group had made their way less than fifty feet when a pack of normal wolves crashed out of the underbrush. The two children began screaming again and in the pandemonium, Zuleika was able to free herself. As she ran, she cast thunderwave again, knocking them all over. She managed to miss the other werewolf with the spell, and he ran off in the opposite direction.

                The wolves seemed intent on making a meal of the children, snapping and snarling at the smallest and weakest of the human ‘pack’.  It took a moment for them to recover, but Quintis and Keening ran one way, and Alleria and Mason the other, after Zuleika. Baasha and Dhamon stayed to fend off the wolves and protect the children.


	4. Half-Elf is still Half Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason and Alleria are separated from the rest of the group. Mason takes full advantage of his time with the Elf maiden to try to wear down her resolve. She's not having any of it, and is quite rude about it as well.
> 
> * * *

                It had been three days now since Alleria and Mason had become separated from the rest of their group. She swore that if they hadn’t been on the verge of completing their quest in this strange land and about to go home, that this split from the others might have been orchestrated by the jovial cleric. The half-elf had been quite forward with her since she joined up with them, but recently it had escalated to heavy flirtation.  He had moved past ruffling her ears when she was shapeshifted. It was a good thing for him that his devotion to his god granted him the gift of healing powers, as she had bitten his hand and drawn blood on more than one occasion. If there was one thing she loathed, it was being treated like a pet or beast of burden when she was shapeshifted. The various forms being a Druid of the Moon afforded her, were for work, not play.

                That being said, she couldn’t help but find his light-hearted sense of humor to be infectious, and for all his flirtations, he did appear to at least have a trace of a gentleman inside of him. She much preferred his company over that of the others, especially the half-Drow. Had she any say in things; she never would have chosen to travel with the like. But, it was Mason who was first to try to convince her that the dark-skinned elf could be trusted. In her mind, though, that remained to be seen and her position would likely never be changed.

                An encounter with a pack of wolves had lead to a split of the group after an ambush. Alleria had given chase to a dark werewolf druid, and Mason had followed. Together, they managed to dispatch of their foe, but had lost their way in the chase. After hours of searching with no luck, they made camp for the night. Exhausted, Alleria was in no mood for small talk, but that didn’t stop Mason. In fact, nothing ever seemed to stop him.

                 “We should have returned to the Winery to check up on them. I could use a bottle or two, or ten, of their fine vintage right now.” He complained, having run out of drink on their second day alone. He unfurled his bedroll next to the small fire and patted the hard ground next to him, that ever-present smile of his playing on his lips.

                 “You know I do not sleep, Mason.” She replied, taking up a lotus style position across from him.

                Sweeping his long brown hair out of his eyes, his brows lifted and his smile broadened. His comment unspoken, for he knew she already knew what his comeback would be.

                She said nothing, not wanting to engage in this line of conversation with him again.

                His exhaustion from the day’s walking and searching won over his need to flirt with her, and he did not press the issue, falling asleep soon after. Alleria stood watch over them during the night, letting him get a full night of much needed sleep.

                By the time had had awoke, she had a simple breakfast of nuts and berries ready, and their route for the day planned.

                Having spent another night alone on his bedroll and finding himself no closer to bedding the fair Elven maiden, Mason couldn’t help but ask.

                 “You can’t tell me that you find me completely unappealing. I may have stubble on my face and my ears aren’t as pointy as yours, but I’ll have you know I have no trouble with the ladies back home. None what so ever.” He did his best to look both charming and honest at the same time.

                Alleria sighed, having wondered how long it would take him to press the matter, to stop his mating dance and come right out and ask why should wouldn’t lay with him.

                 “You are half human.”

                 “Yes, and it gives me a certain ruggedness you don’t find in full elves. Don’t you find it appealing?” he asked with a chuckle.

                 “No.” her response was plain as she did her best to remain formal sounding.

                He cocked his head to the side, as if waiting for her to say more, to explain her position.

                 “Imagine your precious wine. The best you have ever had. Now poor yourself half a glass of it, and fill the glass the rest of the way with water.” She explained.

                Mason put his hand to his chest, as if clutching at his heart, “You wound me. Deeply.”

                 “Please do not take it personally, Mason. You are a good person; kind and humorous. I truly do enjoy your company. You are just not; I am not…” she took a deep breath. “I would not want to chance the risk of a pregnancy. Again, do not take it personally, but I find the idea of having progeny with non-Elven to be a heartbreak I could not endure.”

                His brows raised up, but this time in surprise. “Woah, that is not what I was expecting, nor even remotely suggesting. Not by a long shot.” He paused for a long moment, picking at his breakfast. “I wouldn’t do that to you. Abandon you if you were with child.” His face and voice had both sobered significantly, true conviction behind his words.

                His seriousness took her aback slightly. It was so honest. Endearing even. Perhaps there was more gentleman hiding behind that sea dog façade than she had given him credit for. “That is very noble of you, Mason, but that was not my concern. It is just a much bigger deal for elves. Not that we do not believe in coupling for pleasure’s sake as well, its just…” she shrugged.

                He cut her off, “We don’t all rut like animals, you know. Not that I’m against a good rutting now and again, mind you.” His charming smile slide back into place. “Different lovers call for different…approaches.”

                She said nothing in response, feeling that he wasn’t fully understanding what she meant.  Her lull in the conversation only served as a signal for him to continue; in his mind.

                 “Is that it? Is that why you refuse, because you think me some sort of cad?” Mason asked, more than a hint of curiosity in his voice.

                She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, Mason, a nigh-immortal such as myself is hardly bound by such concerns as monogamy.  I would imagine that I have lived a handful of your lifetimes already.  Even without rutting like an animal, as you put it, I have had my fair share of lovers. And though I have never bedded any of them, I have met more than a few sailors in my time.”

                 “Not all men who take the sea as a mistress are scoundrels. Besides, I am a priest as well. I do have some redeeming qualities.”  He pushed his chestnut hair from his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. He continued to peer up at her, his gaze unwavering and hopeful.

                 “I have indulged your questions long enough. We need to be going. We have a lot of ground to cover.” She replied, turning away from him to finish readying her pack. She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself that he had made a very good point. He was charming and when she stripped away all his bravado, there was good in him.  But, he was also the very thing she was trying to avoid, mortal offspring. How could she lay with him and not be constantly reminded of her vow to herself?


	5. Swept Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mason finally manages to get naked for Alleria, but it wasn't quite the way he had planned. He manages to keep his sense of humor, though not his dignity, in the face of hypothermia.
> 
> * * *

                Even the fact that they were trekking through a forest of a distant realm, Alleria could not feel more at home. This was what she lived for, exploration, the thrill of finding out what was over the next hill. As bleary as this place was, it was like nothing she had seen before, and therefor exciting.

                “If I am right, we will reach a river soon enough, and crossing it will greatly shorten our journey.” She told him.

                “How could you know that?” He asked curiously, marching along beside her in step. The sea, not the forest, was his element. The signs that were plan as day to her here, were lost completely on him.

                “A bird told me our friends are on the road back to the Abbey. If we cross the river and continue at his pace we should rejoin them by tomorrow evening.

                “Wouldn’t we make better time if you let me ride you?” He grinned, quickly adding, “As a horse, of course.” He was utterly unashamed and unapologetic regarding his forwardness. His eyes twinkled with mirth as he gave her a sidelong glance.

                “You have a better chance of riding me as I am now.”

                He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes going wide. “So there is a chance!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together gleefully.

                “No, in this case, better than none is still none.”

                Mason ran a few paces to fall back in step with her. “What if I was grievously injured? Lost one of my legs.” He asked

                “I guess you would have to lean how to hop.”

                “What if we were running for our lives?”

                “I would summon you your own horse.”

                “What if you were out of spells?”

                “Then we would have to stay and fight.”

                “How about if…”

                Alleria tuned him out at that point, letting him list of all manner of scenarios where she might be moved to allow him to treat her like a beast of burden. Finally, when she could take no more.

                “Mason, stop. Half of those situations are not even possible.”

                “I’ll admit the one about warring dragons and time travel are a bit far fetched and extreme, but, anything is possible. You’ve already turned me down more times than I can recall, but I haven’t given up hope.”

                “Not everything is possible. I am starting to think that you giving this subject up is not a possibility either.”

                “Never.” He said, sounding rather self assured.

                After a few more hours of much the same, they reached the bank of the river they had been searching for. Finding a safe place to cross was another matter entirely. As it was getting late, the decision was made to make camp and tackle the problem in the morning.

                Like each night before, he beckoned her to bed down beside him, citing the need to stay warm. Again, she turned him down, replying their fire would keep them both warm enough for the night.  He kept at her, putting more effort into it this evening than he had the nights before. She imagined, because they would be rejoining the others tomorrow and he would no longer have him to herself. When he finally did relent, he kept a silent gaze on her, watching her by the firelight until he drifted off to sleep.

                Once he was asleep, she turned her attention from the moon to Mason. He had been right, his human side didn’t dilute his good looks, but enhanced them. Where she was lithe and delicate, he was strong and sturdy, looking like he could take her up against a wall with ease. She didn’t doubt his stamina either, having marched half way across this realm and back with him already.

                The thing she found the most foreign to her was the stubble that formed on his face as the day progressed. Without meaning to, her mind started to wander and she found herself thinking about the hair that must cover the rest of his body. It would be so different than she was use to, but she didn’t imagine it would be unappealing. Thinking that these simple curiosities must mean he was getting to her, wearing her down, she pushed them away.

                The night passed without incident and in the morning, they prayed to their gods for their blessings for the day ahead.

                “We need to find a safe place to cross.” Alleria said, glancing up and down the wide, fast moving river.

                “Leave this one to me, my dearest druid. It may not be a sea, but Valkur will guide me.” Mason said with confidence. “It looks like it narrows further down some ways.” He added after a few minutes.

                She nodded in agreement, and set off along the river’s edge, taking careful steps along the way. The banks were muddy and dotted with slick, smooth stones. It made keeping ones footing difficult, even for the surefooted wood-elf.

                “I do not think it will get any narrower, and there are some good-sized rocks we can cross on.” she said, thinking she had found the best they could hope for.

                Insisting on going first, Mason carefully began the crossing. Alleria stood by, ready to act in case he was to miss step.  When he reached the half way point, he paused to turn back at her side of the bank. “Step to it, lass. Nothing to fear. But, if you don’t want to get your feet wet, I could come back and carry you across.” His flashed a roguish grin at her and gave a bit of a playful flourish.

                 “Keep an eye on your own feet, or you will find yourself in the drink.” She warned, taking a step towards the crossing.

                As he righted himself to turn and continue, he did indeed loose his footing on the slippery rocks. Into the water he went, head first into the rapids. The quick moving current carried him downstream, his head bobbing up and down on the surface.

                 “Mason!” Alleria called out as she sprang into action, shapeshifting into her dire wolf form and bounding off down the river bank at breakneck speed. After chasing the flailing priest for a handful of tense minutes, she came to a bend in the river. Debris had gathered there and he managed to grab a hold of a branch. With little regard for her own safety, she jumped onto the makeshift float of roots and branches. With strong, but gentle, jaws, she gabbed him by the shoulder firmly and hauled him out of the water, up onto the river bank.

                He sputtered and coughed, hacking up water for a good minute. When he could speak, it was still intermittent with hacking gasps for air. His teeth were chattering loudly and his body was wracked with spasmodic shivers. “M…my angel.” He whispered up at her.

                Alleria gripped him by the shoulder again and dragged him farther up, out of the muck of the bank and onto dry grass. When they had reached a suitable distance, in her mind, she shapeshifted back into her natural form.

                 “I told you to be careful.” She scolded. “Come, we need to get you out of those wet clothes.”

                 “Is that all it takes? A brush with a watery death. Had I known that sooner, I would have filled my pack with rocks and flung myself into the nearest lake.” He tried to smile, but coughed up more river water instead.

                She quickly cast destroy water on Mason’s clothing and gear, drying them out immediately. It was not enough though, as his lips were turning blue.

                 “I think right here works just fine for me.” His hacking and coughing continued. “I don’t think I could move if I wanted to, I can’t quite feel my feet.” He made no attempt to move from his spot, but tucked his freezing hands up under his arms. “You have to undress me yourself.” There was no mirth in his expression this time though.

                She rolled her eyes. “If you did not look like death was at your door…” she unfurled his bedroll on the ground beside him and knelt on it. Skilled hands worked to quickly remove his armor, then his clothing. Her actions weren’t slow and deliberate like that of a lover, but meticulous and quick like a tradesman. Even when she reached his britches, she didn’t let her gaze linger.

                 “By Valkur’s firm rudder, please, do not look at me now.” He mock pleaded with her. “You have to know the effects of icy water on a man’s…dignity.” His voice was ragged from all the coughing, but he tried to chuckle none the less.

                She shimmied him over onto the blanket. “I assure you, I was not paying any attention. But even if I had, all that hair of yours kept your modesty in tact.

                It was hard to pull a rueful grin with his teeth chattering, “But, you admit that you did look.” He winked at her. “Now you, lass. It only works if its skin to skin. I assure you, I am in no shape to take advantage of the situation. I can barely lift my head, let alone my abysmally shrunken co…”

                She cut him off. “No, I don’t imagine you are, but I thought a giant fur throw might work better.” She shapeshifted back into the white dire wolf and draped her large lupine form over the pale, shivering priest of the high seas. She was careful not to place too much of her weight on any delicate points of his smaller form. She curled her long neck around his head protectively, her own coming to rest against the other side of his face.

                 “Wha…Oh….” He whispered in surprise. “But, you do know you’re supposed to make love on the fur rug, not with it.”

                The way in which she had lad her body across his did nothing to suggest that was anywhere on her mind at all, and to admonish him for even suggesting it, she nipped at his stubbly chin. As he was already in a bad way, she made sure not to break the skin, this time.

                He did his best to chuckle, and though he had been bitten for it countless times before, he ran his hand along her furry body in long strokes. This time, she didn’t bite him, instead giving him a feral sounding chuff in reprimand as she tried to re-position herself to pin his arm under her. He was supposed to be warming up, after all, not petting her.

                Recovering from his little accident would end up costing them the rest of the day, through which Mason spent the entity of trapped under his feral protector. At first he was full of jokes and lewd comments about their position, but as she couldn’t respond to any of his comments, he bored after awhile and drifted off to sleep.


	6. The Vow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No spoilers. But this is the chapter that put the **E in the Explicit**. So if you've been wondering, here it is...
> 
> * * *

                Mason slept, warm and cozy, tucked under the large furry form of his traveling companion. She didn’t, of course, instead keeping a watchful eye on her charge. After a few hours, the color returned to his cheeks and his lips returned to their proper color. Any earlier worries he had about seeming inadequate were gone as well. He stirred, stretching out underneath her.

                “We should sleep like that every night…” he said, making a sound of contented pleasure as he stretched, his canary eating grin had returned.  It wasn’t the only thing that had returned, and to emphasis, he ground his hips against her flank.

                She nipped at his chin disapprovingly, again and started to rise on all fours.

                “No, not yet.” He murmured drowsily, throwing his arms around her neck, trying to pull her back down to him. “You feel so soft, so warm. Stay.” He buried his face in the downy fur of her neck.

                She indulged him, though the moment lasted only until he shifted underneath her and his waking erection poked her in the side again. If her fur was stoking his fires, it was time to turn back to her normal self. It was easy to escape his grip, as he had not expected her to shift back. Rolling away from him, she hopped up to her feet.

                “Alright then, you are well enough now.” She grabbed up his clothes and tossed them to him.

                He popped up to his feet, catching his clothes with ease in one hand. There was certainly no shame on his face as he stood before her, completely naked and fully erect.

                “My beautiful elf maiden, it is a wonderful day to be alive. Surely my continued existence; you saving me from certain death, is worth celebrating. And while we have no wine to drink, or music to dance to, we do have…” he motioned with both hands towards his manhood.

                Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking she was ogling him, she busied with preparing their evening meal. “Mason, your little swim cost us half a day’s travel…”

                He cut her off, “And unless you wish to travel by night, you are stuck with me for another eve. I am already well rested, surely we can come up with something to do.”

                “If I could find you music or wine, I would, Mason. I would even drink and dance with you, but you are not putting **_that_** anywhere in, or near, me.”

                “Someday, my elf lass, someday. But, as that day does not appear to be today, I will take my leave to get dressed.”

                Alleria watched him go, without word or a second thought given. Instead, she continued to busy here self with setting up a proper camp for the night. When he had been gone longer than she expected, it occurred that he had to be up to something. Why had he left her sight to put on clothes, when he clearly had no issues being naked around her.

                She padded off into the woods, taking the same route he had left by. It took only a few moments to find him.  He was seated at the base of a large tree, eyes closed and a placid look about his features. His spent manhood was still in hand.

                “Mason.” She whispered, a touch of harshness in her voice. “Really? Sneaking off for this, in the middle of a forest filled with gods know what…”

                He smiled at the sound of her voice, but made no move, nor opened his eyes. “There was too great a demand, lass, it had to be dealt with. I could have waited though, had I known you wanted to watch.

                She gave a derisive snort in response, but lingered none the less.

                Feeling her still standing there, looming over him, he opened his eyes. Smiling up at her, he said, “Tell me, lass, if it’s your worry I’ll knock you up that has you keeping me at arm’s length, would you reconsider if I took sex off the table? Surely we could still intimate enough and enjoy each other’s company otherwise.” He quirked a brow curiously, trying to appear nonchalant about his offer.

                She chuckled, mainly at his expression. “My people wrote the book on intimacy without intercourse, Mason.”

                He extended his hand to her, but promptly withdrew it to wipe it off on the grass beside him, laughing softly to himself and shaking his head with amusement. When he offered it again, she took it and kneeled before him between his splayed legs.

                “You would be willing to offer that? Be content with that?”

                “Alleria, you are so beautiful.” He squeezed her hand between both of his, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you, and not just as an experience, or novelty. I would be content with whatever part of you that you wished to share with me. As I told you before, I am capable of more than just rutting.”

                She looked as though she might be crumbling slightly, “You would swear to that?”

                “To the King of the Sea himself and what ever other gods might be listening. I swear it. In this, I will follow your lead, you will control the ebb and flow of what is between us.” He looked dead serious, but he couldn’t hide the glint in his eye, the lusty eagerness of whatever was to follow. Beneath their clutched hands, his shaft twitched in anticipation.

                It caught her eye and she withdrew her hand from his. The tips of her long delicate fingers brushed over its tip, which still glistened with his spilled seed.

                At her touch, Mason’s eyes shut briefly, drawing in a deep breath which he held for a long moment. When his eyes reopened, her fingertips were at her lips, tasting him.

                “By Valkur’s beard, woman! After all these nights with nothing but pent up torment, the sight of that is just too much. Are you trying to kill me?” As he spoke, some of the color was in fact draining from his face, the blood moving much lower, his cock now fully erect.

                “Salty.” He said with a slight grin. “Like the sea.”

                “Aye.” He murmured, his gaze locked on her lips as he licked his own. “I want to kiss you, very badly.”

                She laughed softly, teasing at him. “You intend to kiss me badly, on purpose? That would not do well to make your case.” She nodded though, “You may kiss me, badly or otherwise.”

                “On just those beautiful lips of yours, or anywhere?” he asked curiously, wanting to be clear lest he get bitten again, or worse.

                “Anywhere, but I would prefer you started with my lips.”

                He was on her before she barely finished her reply. One hand moved to the small of her back, the other behind her head as he laid her back onto the grass and leaves that blanketed the forest floor. His mouth found hers, his touch soft and gentle at first. When his tongue pushed past her lips, into her mouth, she parted them for him, welcoming him inside her mouth. Her tongue slid over his, while they remained in a heated embrace.

                She was taken aback at the building passion behind his kisses. She had no idea how long it had been for Mason, but it had been sometime for her, even by Elven standards.  He pulled away from her for long enough to smile down at her, drinking in the beauty in his arms. With a playful wink, his mouth reclaimed hers for the longest of moments.

                As he was still naked, and their bodies pressed against each other, it finally gave her the chance to let her hands roam over his form. To explore the difference that his body hair made. Her fingertips caressed up and down his form lazily, coming to rest at the small of his back before moving up the swell of his backside.

                While she chose to explore with her hands, he was more than content to do so with his lips, which had moved from hers to pepper her throat with soft kisses.

                “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured between gentle caresses of his mouth on the perfect coppery skin of her neck. Her clothing and armor stopped him from proceeding any lower. His lips worked their way back up her neck, nibbling on the fleshy lobe of her ear. “May I undress you, so that I might further explore the perfection that is your body?”

                “Already?” she whispered.

                He chuckled, squeezing her and holding her even closer to his naked body. “We don’t all have the patience of immortality.”

                “I meant, we have all night. Why rush?” her hands went to his stubbly cheeks, framing his face. She brushed her lips against his, tilting her face then to rest her cheek against his. She appeared to want to savor ever touch, every moment. She let her hands fall away from his face to run down his shoulders and along his arms.

                Despite several more attempts to separate her from her various layers of clothing, it wasn’t until almost dawn that she finally relented in part, removing her armor and tunic for him.

                “You really do take my breath away.” He said softly, his gaze solidly affixed on her now bared breasts. He cupped each in hand, caressing her delicate nipples gently with his thumbs.

                For her, the pace of their first night together was going just fine, but for Mason, it was another thing entirely.  “Alleria, if I don’t do something about the fire in my loins, soon, I may have to leave. I don’t think I can control myself much longer. Elves may be able to prolong things like this, but I cannot.” He chuckled softly, tearing his attention away from her breasts to look her in the eye.

                She gave him an understanding smile and glanced down, his manhood was indeed still rigid and at attention. The head of it glistened in the moonlight, having been leaking in anticipation while they had explored each others bodies all night. Not ready to give up so easily on the vow she had made him take, but not wanting to see him suffer either, she asked “What do you propose?”

                 “You should know what I’d like, but as that is not possible, I will have to take matters into my own hands, again.” He leaned in to brush his lips against her once more. “You are welcome to watch, this time, or help.”

                “Help?” she asked.

                “Yes, keep kissing me, or just continue to lay here half naked with me. You can be as involved as you wish.” He rolled onto his back, pulling her close to his side as he did. An arm slid under her neck and around to her back, the other hand went to his hard shaft.

                “In all my years,” she murmured softly in his ear, her tongue teasing at the sensitive flesh there, “I can honestly say I have never watched a man do this for himself.”

                “You’ve done it before though?” he asked curiously.

                “Yes, Mason. I am hardly a virgin. Though, you are the first non-Elven lover I have taken.”

                “I feel special.” He murmured, his eyelids drooping lazily as his hand gripped his shaft.

                “Any port in a storm.” Her face lit up, as if she were about to laugh, but stifled it instead to continue placing light kisses at his neck and throat.

                “Now you’re stealing my lines too?” He couldn’t help but laugh, at her choice of words. It was a full-bodied and rich sounding noise. It caused his hand to pause for a moment.

                Seeing him stop, she quirked a brow questioningly. He had said she could help, starting small, she moved her hand to his chest, running her fingertips over his skin lazily.  “Not that there was a storm. Elves go much longer without, even in their prime.”

                He shifted slightly at her touch, his hand spurred back into action. “After all your teasing tonight, this could get quite messy.” He didn’t seem to be in any rush though, his fingers on his cock moving as leisurely as hers on his chest.

                “I was not teasing.” She scolded him, despite her tone, she didn’t cease what she was doing, her hand moving past his to caress his thigh. After another kiss to the side of his neck, she laid her cheek against his chest, closing her eyes for the moment.  She inhaled deeply and sighed, though it was not the usual sound of exasperation she had uttered in his presence so many times.  This sound was far more contented and relaxed.

                “I know.” He said softly, tilting his head to kiss the top of hers. Inhaling deeply as well, he drew in her scent, letting it fill not only his lungs, but his mind as well. He wanted to commit it, and this moment, to memory.

                Her eyes still closed, she let her other senses take in her surroundings. She could hear his breathing in her ear and feel the subtle changes in it by the rise and fall of his chest. At her touch, she could feel his skin change, growing warmer and the muscles underneath tense and relax.  Dragging her fingertips up his leg again, she moved her hand to rest on his, feeling how he altered the speed and grip on the hard shaft in it’s grasp.  Only after satiating those senses did she reopen her eyes, taking in the sight of what she had felt and heard.

                She watched with rapt attention as he slid his hand deftly along the hard shaft of his cock. Before long, the only sounds between them was his ragged breathing.  When those sounds turned more urgent, she shifted, leaning over him to reclaim his mouth for her own. Her kisses were more fervent than they had been before, prompted by the escalating sexual heat between them. Her hand remained on his, and she gave a gentle squeeze as it moved in concert with his.

                Holding her close still with his other arm, he broke off the kiss for the briefest of moments. “I’m close to the edge.” He managed, his voice sounding laboured.

                Staying close at the hip, she propped herself up on her arm, looking down at him now with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Very close?” she cooed at him. Moving her hand from his, she let it rest on her leg, bracing herself so she could move her face closer to the action at hand.

                “So if I were to do something like this, it might push you over?” By this, she meant lowering her face to his cock and swirling her tongue around it’s slick head.

                Mason uttered a loud gasp at the sensation of her warm tongue on his cockhead, it was a mix of surprise and pleasure that escaped his lips. So unexpected was her move that he didn’t have time to warn her. As her tongue took another long lick of the tip of his shaft, it exploded, his white sticky seed erupting in a much-needed release.

                Apparently, she had been expecting that physical response, for at the first taste of his salty seed she wrapped her lips around his cock, swallowing all he had to offer. His hips bucked slightly under her lips embrace on his shaft and he groaned, a long unrestrained sound of extreme pleasure.

                Finished, yet finding himself speechless, he was able only to look up at her with wide eyed surprise. His look said it all, fortunately, as he laid there panting, trying to regain his breath and the ability to form any sort of coherent response.

                Daintily, she ran her thumb across her lips and wiped her chin before turning her attention back to him. The look on his face, his dumbfounded expression drew a broad smile from her.

                “What?” she feigned innocence, “You said I could help.”

                Finding some semblance of a voice, he replied, “Gods, yes, but never would I have expected like that. Not tonight.”

                “Good. At least now I finally know how to shut you up.” She teased.

                “Woman, I would take a vow of silence for the rest of my life if you were going to enforce it like that!” His hand still on her back, he pulled her face in close to his, “I think I’m in love.”

                “I think that is your spent cock talking.” She said with a chuckle, “And that you should get a few hours of sleep.”

                “After that I think I could sleep through the sea bitch’s fury.” He kissed her cheek softly. “Tomorrow though, I will undress you completely and kiss you stem to stern.” His lips then moved to hers for a more lingering kiss.

                “We shall see.” She murmured after his kiss, “I am the captain of this ship, remember? You do my bidding, and I say sleep. We have to make up for today.”

                He yawned, stretching out, his back cracking a few times. He pulled her close once again and whispered in her ear, “If you are in such a rush, you can be a horse and you’ll let me ride you bareback.”

                She started to protest.

                “Woman, you’ve had my cock in your mouth, surely carrying me on your back could be no more of an affront to your delicate sensibilities.” He teased.

                “I should bite you right now, for that.” She half teased back.

                “Bite away, my dear, as long as its not my poor spent prick. I still have need of it...as do you.” He joked, his eyes closing as he settled in to get some much-needed rest.

                She let him drift off for a few precious hours of sleep after that, and part of her envied him for it.


	7. Can You Blame a Wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alleria tries to herd Mason back on track, but he's even more incorrigible now...
> 
> * * *

                Alleria let Mason sleep well past dawn, saving her morning meditations for after he was awake. Her choice of spells would depend, in part, on him.  She dressed and packed up the rest of their meager camp, letting him sleep through all the work.

                “Mason.” She stood over him, nudging him gentle with her foot. He stirred, but wasn’t roused from his sleep. “Mason, you need to wake up.” She knelt beside him and brushed her lips against his.

                As she pulled away, his head lifted, lips moving to seek hers out again. “I’m up. I’m up.” He said lazily, his arms reaching out for her. Once they found her, he pulled her on top of him clumsily. Apparently, he had not meant that he was merely awake; rubbing his hardened manhood against her to prove his point.

                “Mason!” she laughed softly in his arms, “We do not have time for this now.”

                As he was still naked under his blanket, he released his hold on her long enough to pull it out from between their bodies. “I can be done quickly, honest, it’s a talent of mine.” He teased with a self-deprecating smile as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

                “Tonight, Mason. I do no want to miss meeting up with the others. I imagine they will not stay longer in Krazk than is required.”

                “I thought once we were back with the others you would throw me aside for Tallonon.” He teased, still holding her firmly in place against his naked form.

                “Do not joke like that, Mason. The very idea of it…” she looked thoroughly disgusted by the idea. “Put that image in my mind and I might never be aroused again.”

                “I wouldn’t want that.” He laughed, and let go of her to hold his hands up above his head in surrender.

                “We have two choices, today.” Even though he has released his hold on her, she made no move to leave him just yet. It would appear, that she had, for the most part, succumb to his charms. “I will let you decide. One, I can summon you a horse and we can ride together. Two, I can change your shape into a great wolf and we can run together like that.”

                “Three, you can save your spells, take the shape of a horse and I will ride you bareback. We shall charge over hill and dale, the wind rushing through my long beautiful hair.” He said, trying his best to sound serious at first. “Like one of those fancy lasses in those upper crust paintings.” A childlike giggle escaped his lips, the very idea of it being even too silly for him.

                She rolled her eyes at him, but her smile stayed firmly in place, still amused by his antics. “I thought last night might have distracted you from this seemingly growing obsession with me carrying you around like I was some common ass.”

                He feigned shock, “My dear woman, your ass is anything but common. Believe me, I have made a study of it since we first met. And, now that I have had it in hand, I can categorically confirm that is utterly uncommon.”

                Her response was silent, and stern.

                “I am what I am, m’ lady. But, if those are my only two choices, the second. Definitely. I can ride a horse any day, but to change forms at like you do. Even a small taste of that would be incredible.”

                She nodded and rolled off him, kneeling. “I will need to pray, then.” She closed her eyes in preparation.

                He popped up to his feet, dusting his hands off. Apparently, he had lost any sense of shame when it came to being naked in front of her, because he made no move to dress or even hide the fact he was at half-mast. “Yeah…about that…” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck distractedly. “I’m going to go over there…” he pointed off in a random direction, “…and pray as well. Silently. By myself.”

                Even with her eyes closed, she couldn’t help but grin at his obviousness. “And I will be right here, by myself, pretending I cannot hear you.”

                He trudged off towards the river, “I will be communing with my god.” He insisted weakly, though the smirk on his face suggested otherwise.

                “I did not realize your holy symbol was your cock.” She said with a chuckle before taking a deep cleansing breath, trying to focus on Mother Moon, not Mason, which proved to be a little difficult with the sounds coming from the direction of the river.

                By the time Alleria had finished praying, Mason had returned and was fully dressed.

                “I had almost forgotten what you looked like in clothes.” She teased.

                He chuckled at her comment, clicking his tongue at her. “I would happily remove them for you, but you insist on ruining things and demand that we leave.”  he asked as he went to claim his pack and throw it over his shoulder.

                She pushed herself up to her feet and threw her pack over her shoulder as she made her way over to him. With a wink, she clasped his face in her hands and pulled him close for a kiss. It was brief though, as her lips were moving against his as she murmured the spell needed to change his shape.

                The transformation was almost immediate, and where Mason once stood, there was now a large chestnut brown dire wolf. With her hands still placed on either side of his head, she leaned in to kiss him between the ears.

                As the heightened senses kicked in, and he adjusted to being on four, instead of two, legs, he romped around like an awkward pup. Alleria simply looked on, a bemused expression on her face.

                ‘By Valkur’s beard, this is amazing! My sight…I can see so much further! The sounds, so many sounds! And the smells.” He stopped his cavorting around, lifting his nose to the air. “What is that intoxicating aroma?” He took a step forward, following his keen nose. He was so overcome by his new shape; he didn’t realize he was communicating telepathically with her.

                “Go on, get your sea legs worked out, so we can run. The spell is not indefinite and I have only one use of it today.”  Her offer had nothing to do with the economy of spells or travel, but more of a gift to him.

                ‘Wait, that smell…it’s you!’ Like an impertinent pup, the large brown lupine stuck his nose between her legs, inhaling her scent with his newfound keen senses.

                “By the gods, Mason. Be serious.” She rapped him on the nose, pushing his face away from her.

                ‘Fineeee.’ He sat down on his haunches in front of her. ‘I can be serious, now that I know the truth. You want me.’ He let his tongue loll out the side of his fanged maw. Somehow his roguish grin followed him, even in this shape. ‘Wait…how are we…?’

                She shapeshifted as well, her form taking that of one like his, but as white as the moon and tattooed. ‘It is a bond of sorts. Elvish druid magic.’ She explained and then looked away from him to lift her head to the sky.  She sniffed the air and listened, trying to get her barring and plan their route for the day.

                Turning her back on Mason, for even a moment, proved to be an error in judgement. As she was looking for signs in the tree line, she felt the pressure of his paws on her back and the clumsy poking of something hard at her furred backside. Having never imagined he would even dare, it took a moment for her to comprehend exactly what he was attempting.

                ‘Mason!’ she shouted in his mind as she side stepped away from him. To punctuate that she was having none of it, she turned at snapped her teeth at him. Her lips were curled back and her hackles up.

                He whined in response and bowed his head, ‘You can’t blame a wolf for trying, can you?’ he replied.

                ‘Yes, I can. Mason, the gift of forms is for work, for battle, not for playing around. I gave you the option because I thought you would enjoy it…but not like that.’ She padded over to him to rub the side of her muzzle against his, ‘You are such a scoundrel.’ She said in a relenting tone before turning to bound off through the underbrush.

                She kept their pace at a good clip, not stopping until the magic she cast on him wore off and he had to return to his normal form. They had made it a good deal of progress for the day, and she estimated they would reach their destination sometime after sundown. After a brief respite, she summoned a horse for him, ignoring his teasing.

                The rest of the day was a hard and tiring ride, but they managed to reach Krazk and rejoin the rest of their group not too long after the sun set. There was a round of greetings and a fine meal before they all decided to retire for the night. None of them wanted to linger too long in the shadow of the Abbey and its freakish inhabitants.

                Mason had more than made up for his recent drought of wine and over indulged. It took Dhamon and Quintis to carry him up the stairs to his room. Being a bit of a rowdy drunk that night, he did not want the party to end. Luckily for all, he passed out shortly after hitting his bed.

                Once the house was quiet and everyone was asleep, Alleria crept through the manor as quiet as a mouse - literally.  She slipped into Mason’s room through a crack in the wall and crawled up onto his bed. He was snoring loud enough to wake the dead and being crawled on by a rodent didn’t even register.

                Shifting back into her true self, her naked form was silhouetted by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Fortunately, the Burgomaster’s house was grand enough, that they did not have to share rooms.

                “Mason.” She whispered softly as she peeled back the covers to sneak into bed with him. A reversal of the night before, with him still fully dressed and she wearing nothing at all. He stirred as she cozied up next to him, snorting loudly through his gaping mouth. She hadn’t planned on waking him though, having sought his bed for comfort, not sex.

                Not truly waking, he rolled over, wrapping an arm around her and snuggling up close. “You smell like…happy.” He mumbled incoherently, still very much asleep.

                Not caring about having to explain things to the others, she stayed for the entire night with him. In fact, she cared far more about him waking up with her in his arms. She rolled onto her side, nestling her face in the crook of his neck. Not waiting to wake him, but unable to stop herself, she brushed her lips along his tanned skin. It appeared it would take more than a few gentle kisses to rouse him from his stupor though, and he slept deeply through the night.               


	8. What Do You Do With a Drunken Cleric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More E text.
> 
> * * *

                The group was back on the road the next day, leaving Krazk and the strange Abbey behind. They had paid their debt to the Abbot and gained new information for their quest.  The change in relationship between Mason and Alleria certainly made for more interesting times; especially the long walks through the drab realm. It also had an impact on Alleria’s view of this land, their quest and getting home.

                Mason remained his flirtatious and outgoing self. He had been forward with the she-elf since day one and he saw no reason to change things now.  Alleria had let him decide how public or private they were to be. She didn’t have a care in either direction. 

                No longer lost in the woods meant it was more difficult to find private time for themselves. Whomever was on watch would surely have noticed their closeness. As Alleria did not need to sleep, she often spent the night with Mason’s head in lap, her delicate fingers combing though his long brown locks or caressing his sea weathered face.

                After days on the road, they finally reached Vallaki where they could bed down for the night. At once such inn, Alleria secured her own room, with a bath. No need for the bed, but a chance to bathe in something other than a frigid stream was an entirely different matter. Opting to forgo dinner in favour of a long soak, she managed to slip off unnoticed from the revelry in the Inn’s main room. Taking her time, turning the act into something akin to a ritual, she stripped off her layers of leather armor and fine Elven crafted linens. 

                The old tub was nothing like the ornate versions she was used to, but the size was generous and the water warm. Sliding into the soothing water she felt the aches and pains of the day fade away.  Even though she didn’t sleep it, it didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the deeply relaxing bath. With all but her peripheral awareness turned off, this was the closest she got to sleeping.

                She was on the verge of pruning when she heard the familiar cadence of Mason’s steps in the hallway. Without knocking, he burst into the room and stumbled a few steps. Spotting her in the tub he sidled over to her.

                 “Alleria, my Elven beauty!” he exclaimed.

                Attempting to climb in with her, fully clothed, she gave him a little shove to stop him.

                 “Mason, you handsome fool, at least undress first.” Using a little magic, she removed some of the water from the tub to make room for him and not cause a flood.

                 “Aye, aye my Captain. My Siren, my Nymph, my goddess…” He replied, awkwardly stepping out of his clothing, hopping on one for and nearly falling over in the process. Once naked, he crawled into the tub with her. His presence caused the water to rise to their chests.

                 “Captain.” She replied simply with a broad grin.

                Sloshing about, he moved to her side of the tub, his hands moving to her wet body as his lips sought out hers. She had no issues with him kissing her in his tipsy state.

                Between somewhat sloppy kisses, she murmured, “You’re a little drunk, lover and very naked. I hope you can control yourself and keep your vow.”

                 “There is still so much of you to explore, my dearest. I will be on my best behavior.” His mouth reclaimed hers, kissing her deeply while his hands came to rest on her knees.

                 “You’re make a very good point.” She replied as she ran her hands up his arms, coming to rest on his shoulders. Done with words for now she nibbled his bottom lip playfully.

                His hands sunk below the surface of the bath water as he ran them down her thighs to where her legs met. Delicately, exploringly he caressed the bare mound there. “So smooth.” He whispered between kisses. Teasingly she ran a thumb over the divide where her netherlips met.

                Pulling her head back from his she smiled but said nothing for the moment. She let him explore on his own without distraction or guidance from her.

                 “You’ll find I’m quite adept at holding my breath, but I would rather not drown myself in this tub pearl diving.” A drunken grin was plastered across his face.

                Alleria laughed softly, “You’d like to move to the bed? Just as well. I am starting to wrinkle.” She slid out from under him and stepped out of the tub. Rivulets of water ran down her former, trickling to the floor and pooling at her feet.

                Mason inhaled deeply in an appreciative manner. “You are so beautiful.” He whispered, taking in the full sight of her.  “You’ll never cease to amaze me, both in beauty and your agreeable nature when it comes to my needs.” He stepped from the bath carefully, stumbling and nearly falling as he did.

                She chuckled at his comment. “Agreeable? You make it sound like a chore.” She went searching for a towel to dry herself off. As she reached for one, he grabbed it away.

                He placed his hands on her hips and squeezing them gently. “I want you wet.” He smirked and his hands went to her rear end, lifting and kneading her firm cheeks. Pulling her closer, he rubbed his hard shaft against her damp body as he began to walk her backwards to the bed.

                 “I assure you, Mason, I am.” She said with a sly smile and an equally devilish wink. When the backs of her legs hit the side of the bed, she fell back slightly and only his hold on her stopped her from falling onto her back.

                He wasn’t all that steady himself, the drink making him clumsy. As he leaned in to kiss her, he lost his balance and they both tumbled onto the bed, laughing.  It put them in a rather precarious position though, as with one good thrust of his hips, he could have broken his promise to her.

                Feeling her body pressing up against his, damp and warm with desire, his passions flamed and he once again sought out her mouth with his own. He kissed her hungrily, his lips tugging at hers, their tongues meeting.  His lips moved from hers, to her cheek, to her throat and back. The brush of his lips excited her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps where ever they touched.

                Sliding down her body, he kissed his way down her throat, pausing at each of her breasts to claim them between his lips, to run his tongue over her nipples. He could hear her excitement, the catch of her breath in her throat as he teased each sensitive nub. It drove him on. As he made his way down her stomach, he ceased his kisses, running his tongue along her damp skin instead.

                Alleria lifted her head from the bed, watching his progress along her body. Her expression was appraising and curious. As he slipped off the bed to his knees and spread her legs open, she couldn’t help but laugh softly at him.

                Placing his hands on her knees, he couldn’t help but stare at her smooth body with hunger in his eyes. Wetting his lips and swallowing, his gaze flicked to her face for a moment before his head dipped. He slid his hands the rest of the way up her thighs to where they met. Like he had in the bath, he slowly ran a thumb along the edges of her netherlips. He was entranced by the view, by the feel of her smooth skin.

                Resting her head back onto the bed, Alleria shut her eyes and exhaled softly as she savored his touch. He placed a single, yet sloppy, kiss on each thigh before turning his lips to hers, parting them with her tongue. Probing and teasing with his tongue, drinking in the taste and smell of her arousal for him.

                Her body writhed and squirmed in response to his ministrations, each caress of his fingers and brush of his tongue causing her body to crackle with electricity. Her hands clutched at the bed sheets, her nails digging into the bed. Between low moans, she whispered his name repeatedly, urging him on.

                Despite being extremely enthusiastic, Mason had consumed a goodly amount of alcohol that evening. Not enough to impede his mind or desire to pleasure his woman, but enough that his body had different plans for the night.

                At first, Alleria thought he had simply paused for a moment to catch his breath or marvel at her bare figure. As the moments passed with both Mason’s mouth and hands falling silent, Alleria lifted her head to look down her body at him.

                An amused expression formed on her lips immediately when she saw that Mason had passed out, his cheek pressed up against one of her thighs.

                 “Oh, Mason.” Sighing, though still with a smile on her face, she wriggled out from under her drunken sailor. She was mindful to do so in such a way that he wouldn’t slump back and fall on the floor. It took some effort, but she managed to drag him up onto the bed and under the covers.

                 “You will owe me one for this, my sweet sweet fool.” She whispered into his ear after kissing his cheek gently. “And I am not likely to ever let you live it down.”  She added as she crawled under the covers with him.


	9. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strahd exacts his revenge on the party, for the party stealing Ireena from him.  
> (Alleria and Mason missed out on that....)
> 
> * * *

                In the morning, as they readied to depart, they were approached at the Inn by one of the native Dusk Elves. He explained that he was seeking individuals who possessed both ability and bravery to fight Strahd.

                “That is our quest.” Dhamon explained, “The Vistani tasked us with finding three objects that would help defeat the Vampire Lord, but up until now, we have been unable to find any information about the third.”

                “Do you know anything of large doors crafted of amber?” Tallonon asked, though his tone would suggest he wasn’t hopeful. They had asked everyone and anyone from the Village of Barovia to Krazk and back with no luck.

                The Dusk Elf smiled, “I do indeed know of the place you seek, and I will take you there, on one condition.”

                Alleria, Baasha, Keening and Quintis remained silent, content to let the other two speak for them, or use the time to assess the Elf and his credibility.

                “All I ask is you take me with you. The amber doors you seek belong to the Amber Temple. It was once a place of great power. It still is, but like everything else in this land, it has succumbed to darkness. I wish to search the troves there in the hopes of finding something to bring my dead sister back to life.  Strahd drove her to madness and she killed herself.” He said, his face emotionless.

                The Rogue and Bard both gave a nod to Dhamon, letting him know the strange Elf was telling the truth.

                Alleria bit her tongue. It was one thing to bring the dead back to life, but to use an item of dark magic, that went against her principles.

                When it was decided that they would help him, the Elf introduced himself as Kasimir and he was formally invited to join their group.

                When Kasimir explained that they would be journeying into the mountains, the party set off to the general store to buy any additional supplies they would need. Alleria stayed behind, mediating to prepare her spells for the day. She was pleased to find, that as she communed with the Mother, that she had been granted new powers, including the ability to shapeshift into more powerful beasts – namely those that could fly.

                Between the information they had gained from the Abbot, and now Kasimir, they could chart a course through the forest and foothills that would lead them to the mountain pass that was the only access to the Amber Temple.  There was a renewed sense of purpose that rippled through the group, no longer were they wandering aimlessly across Barovia. They final item they needed to defeat Strahd was within reach.

                Marching across Barovia gave Alleria and Mason ample time to actually talk. And while she didn’t announce it so the entire group could hear, she made sure to playfully mock Mason for the night before.  Once she had him begging for mercy and promising her the moon and the stars in apology, she finally let it be. From there their conversation turned to more serious matters: the past, the future, hopes, dreams, desires.  She had requested a relationship of more than just physical intimacy, and it was this sort of deep conversation that she had meant.

                She was genuinely heartbroken when Mason told her he had been on his way home, hoping to see his dying mother one last time when the mists took him. Trying to use levity to brighten his mood, she put forth that, given Elven longevity, she might know or even be related to his father. The idea of it did at least get a smile out of him. 

                “Have you given any thought to what you will do when, and if, we are returned home?” She asked, as they walked side by side in the middle of the groups loose marching formation.

                “I will continue with my original plan.” He said. “I am sure that too much time has passed, but I still have to go, just in case.” His smile was forced, his face not holding any of its usual good natured disposition.

                Alleria nodded. “If we are dropped off back where the mists originally took us, I will be quite a way to the north.”

                “After all the walking I’ve done here, nothing seems too far away now.” There was a small glimmer of a genuine smile from him. “In the even that is the case, I suppose we should pick a place to meet. That is, if you wish to continue this?” He asked, trying not to sound too invested in her response.

                “Yes, I would like that, very much.” She said simply. Giving it some thought, she fell silent, trying to come up with a location that would be central to them both.

                Before she could off up any possibilities, the air began to chill around them and the sky darken. The blackest of nights descended on them, and even those with the gift of dark vision could not penetrate the shadows. It choked off all sights and sounds in their immediate area.

                An ominous voice boomed around them, coming from within the darkness.

                “You have stolen from me! You have cheated me of my prize!”

                Though he could see no attack, Mason threw himself on top of Alleria, knocking her to the ground. Strahd had already taken one of their number before, and the Cleric wasn’t about to allow a repeat of it.

                In confusion, Alleria fought him at first, though when it occurred to her that he was shielding her, she relaxed.

                “Now one of you will suffer the same fate!” The voice thundered ominously.

                The words caused a chill to trickle down Alleria’s spine like ice water. They had stolen Strahd’s bride to be by freeing her. If he meant to do the same to them…she and Mason were the only two romantically linked in the party.  She could still feel Mason atop her, protecting her. She could feel his breath on her neck and his hand on her wrist was still warm with life. Could Strahd have meant something else?

                As quickly as it had fallen, the darkness lifted and they could see each other again. She waited for Mason to rise before standing up as well.

                It was Dhamon who spoke first. “Everyone still here, and all right?” he asked, is voice full of concern.

                “Aye.” Tallonon replied and one by one, the others chimed in.

                “I am still here, and fine.” Alleria added as she dusted herself off. When Mason didn’t add his voice to the chorus, she looked to him with concern. “Mason?”

                The look on the Half-Elf’s face was clearly one of confusion.

                “Who are you people?” He asked, his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his short sword. It was plainly evident, from his expression, that he was not joking this time.

                “Not funny, Mason.” Baasha said, frowning slightly.

                “I assure you, my fair maiden that I am not attempting to be humorous.”

                “Strahd must have done something to his mind.” Alleria offered, looking on with concern. Turning to him, she asked, “Mason, what is the last thing you remember?”

                His hand moved from his sword hilt to his face, rubbing his chin in thought. I was making my way up the Sword Coast to visit my mother. I remember waking up to a strangely heavy fog one morn…” He assumed a far away and thoughtful look, searching his memory for any additional memories.

                “That would have been nearly two months ago, Mason.” Dhamon explained. “You don’t recall any of what has happened here?”

                “Where is here…” Mason asked, glancing about. “No, from what you’re telling me, I suppose not.”

                “We’re in a land called Barovia. Which is, as best we can tell, not part of Faerun at all.”  Baasha explained.

                Tallonon continued, “The land is ruled by a monster, a vampire lord named Baron Strahd von Zarovich.  He’s unlike any vampire we’ve ever heard of, ten-fold stronger and has a strangle hold on the land and its peoples.”

                “The mists brought us all here. You, Dhamon, Keening and Quintis first.” She motioned to each of them as she named them off. “Then Tallonon and I joined, and most recently, Alleria.”

                Alleria dipped her head as Baasha ‘introduced’ her.

                “Aye. A strange group to be sure.” He paid Tallonon an especially critical once over, to which the Half-Drow rolled his red eyes.

                “We are friends. I assure you. You even vouched for my character when she arrived.” Tallonon jerked his head towards Alleria.

                Mason chuckled, “Alright then, friends. You seem a trustworthy lot, and Valkur would seem to agree.”

                Alleria seemed content with what the others had said in way of explanation, adding nothing more herself.  She was more intent on studying Mason for any signs that his condition was hopefully, only temporary.

                Kasimir, whom they had all but forgotten, stepped out of the tree line to their right. “Did I miss something?” he asked curiously, wondering why the group had stopped walking.

                “Only Strahd.” Dhamon said, his tone dry.

                “Aye, apparently, he has stolen my memories.” Mason said with a weak shrug, a hand moving to his hair to brush it out of his eyes.

                The Dusk Elf looked taken a back. “I wasn’t gone -that- long, nor did I think I had scouted that far ahead. “One would have to guess though, much like getting you all home, that killing Strahd would be the solution.”

                A few of them nodded in agreement, but nowhere had they read, nor had anyone told them, that killing Strahd once and for all would do anything other than end his reign of terror over the land. There were no guarantees that the mists would lift.

                “Yes, it might be nice if you could remember the last two months.” Alleria murmured softly to herself.

                Dhamon continued, “We would help regardless. It is the right thing to do. None the less, returning Mason’s memories and going home would still be an agreeable conclusion as well.”

                “Nothing important was ever accomplished by standing around yapping about it.” Mason said, his usual puckish grin having returned to his face. “Let’s get me my memories back and send us all home. Oh, and free the people.” He said with a clap of the hands.

                Alleria had been able to hold her tongue, waiting until their trek resumed to ask Mason if he remembered their relationship. She didn’t get the chance though, as he gave Baasha a sweeping bow. “Tell me more of this land, and all it has to offer, my fair lass.”

                ‘Could he really have forgotten all that had happened between the two of them? Furthermore, if he did not, how could he snub her in favor of Baasha? She never thought Mason shallow, but beautiful women were a weakness of his. There was no way he could pick the Baasha over her.’ Alleria thought to herself, a frown forming in her fair face.

                They had never officially announced themselves a couple, but they had certainly fallen short of everything but that. Baasha certainly had to be in the know, so as Mason put all his attentions on her, Baasha only gave Alleria an awkward little shrug.

                The Elf shrugged back and motioned for Baasha to just go with it. She had already made her mind up to wait until evening, when they could be alone.

                “I will scout ahead with Kasimir.” Alleria said and shapeshifted into her signature white dire wolf.

                “Valkur’s Beard! You don’t see that every day!” Mason exclaimed.

                “Actually, Mason. We do.” Keening offered with a chuckle.

                “You, more so than the rest of us.” Dhamon added as they watched the wolf bound off down the road to catch up to the Dusk Elf, that had once again slipped off without notice.


	10. Too Good for an Elf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alleria and Mason finally talk about his memory loss. It does not go as she had expected. A short but important chapter.
> 
> * * *

               The day was spent, in its entirety, by walking to their destination. This had provided Mason with all the time he needed to reacquaint himself with the rest of the group. Save for Alleria, as she had kept her distance, always on the periphery and always shapeshifted.

                Her mind was set to task. Finding the lost relic would mean they could face Strahd and put an end to all of this.  They made camp outside the temple with the amber doors that they had searched so long for. After a full day of walking, most of the group was eager to sleep. Mason had volunteered to take last watch, so Alleria tranced early. She would take that opportunity to talk to him.

                Once rested, she patrolled the perimeter of the camp, coming back to the fire once Mason was awake for his watch.

                “I hear you.” He called out, as she padded up to his place by the fire and shapeshifted back.

                “Only because I wanted you to.” She replied and crouched down, resting on her toes beside him at the fire. “Have you pieced it together then? Why Strahd did this to you?” The fading light from the fire made him look older, the fine weathering of his face more pronounced. He looked more serious than she could recall ever seeing him before.

                “Aye” He replied, reaching up to run his fingers through his long brown hair, checking for twigs or leaves. “I can’t say that any of it makes much sense though.”

                “He is vengeful.”

                “Aye, no. I get that much. What I cannot fathom is why he would single me out.”

                At that moment, she realized the others had not told Mason the full truth of the matter. “We took his love away from him. So, he took away ours. Erased it.”

                “Ours?” Deep lines of confusion etched in his brow.

                “Yes. Ours. It had not been very long, but…” She went on to tell him of how they had been separated from the others and grown closer. How they had been lovers since then, if only for a brief time.

                “Me? In love with an Elf?” That hardly sounds in character.

                “Yes. You had not given me much peace since I arrived.” She said with the faintest of smiles.

                “I’ll not deny you’re very beautiful.” He said. “But seeing the heartbreak it brought my mother, I would never bind myself to an Elf.”

                Alleria nodded. She knew the story of his parents. It made sense that on some level he might think that way.

                “I can understand why you would say that, Mason. But, I assure you, you did not feel that way yesterday. Or if you did, you had made peace with it.”

                He picked up a stick and poked idly at the fire with it. “Perhaps this punishment of Strahd’s is for the best then.”

                “How can you say that after what I have just told you?” She was taken aback slightly.

                “It would never work between us in the long run. Your kind is too fickle of heart and cruel. We are all just your play things…”

                Alleria looked as if he had struck her, eyes wide and mouth agape. “You are the one who is being cruel, Mason. Your feelings for me may have been stolen, but mine were not. I would have thought you not so unkind as to speak to me so, knowing that.”

                “Then I am truly sorry.” He said duly, without any hint of emotion. “That he did not curse us both.” He tossed the stick into the fire and wiped his hands off on his pants. His gaze stayed firmly on the flames though, with not even a sidelong glance to her.

                “He wanted one of us to suffer loss, like he had. I suppose.” She murmured softly. “We should be thankful he did not just take one of us like he did last time. I could not have bared it. At least I know you are alive.” With that said, she stood back up and strode away from the fire.

                After a few minutes the mournful how of a wolf broke the quiet night sky. It was soon joined by a full chorus of others of varying volume and proximity.

               


	11. The Amber Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the campaign and the story take different paths. My writing got ahead of where we were and I didn't want to stop, so things will be different from here on out.
> 
> * * *

                The morning mountain air was harsh and biting, forcing everyone to hurry to break camp. It had not been as cold the night before, but it looked like a storm was moving in. Regardless of how their day went in the temple, it looked as if they would be forced to stay for a while. Alleria’s mind was preoccupied with her conversation with Mason the night before. Finding the tools to kill Strahd and return home was her only focus now.

                They found opposition inside the temple, barbarians, demonic skulls, mad wizard apprentices and even a group of witches. None of it proved too difficult, as they had chosen to take their time, be thorough and rest often. The amber guardians proved to be the most difficult. They appeared to take no damage from non-magical sources.  Tallonon was disappointed, as he had summoned a large earth elemental to assist him and its attacks had no effect on the guardians.

                They encountered the Mad Apprentice in a scorched chamber on the far side of the temple. The frail little man with burn marks on his skin explained he had come to the temple with his master, but had fled when they were attacked by the flame skulls. Unfortunately, the group had come across the remains of what they suspected was this addled little man’s master. His charred corpse had been in the room with three flame skulls.

                Offering to take him with them, the Apprentice declined. He wasn’t of his right mind, and was quite firm he must remain where he was. That it was safe there. He boasted having an item of power that would protect him, though he wouldn’t reveal any details about it.  Once they had left the man behind, Quintis showed off a shiny amulet he had nicked from him.

                Tallonon looked the amulet over, checking it for magics and then announced, “When you speak the magic word, it will summon a shield guardian to fight for you.” He told Quintis.

                 “That could be a big help, against Strahd.” Both Quintis and Keening said in near perfect unison.

                Dhamon looked a little dubious, perhaps not overly happy about leaving the Mad Apprentice alone without protection.

                They had searched nearly the entirety of the temple and still not found what they had come for. In fact, it was completely by accident that Alleria found a secret door in the walls of one of the chambers. Behind the door, in a closet like room, there was a chest suspended from the ceiling. Upon future inspection, Quintis found that the chest was trapped and when he used his trickster magic to manipulate it from a distance, a deluge of skulls poured from the chest and the floor of the room gave way. A door on the other side of the room was revealed as well.

                Keening pointed out a trap was a good sign they were on the right path, and the others were inclined to agree with him. They rested for a short while, discussing how to get past a room without a floor. During a brief meal and a drink, it was decided that Alleria would magically imbue Dhamon with the ability to climb walls like a spider. That he would tie a rope to the now empty chest that was suspended from the ceiling, and the rest would swing across.  It worked like a charm, but seeing Dhamon, fully dressed in plate armor and carrying a heavy pack, scuttling along the walls like a bug – or ghoul – was disconcerting to more than one of them.

                What they found on the otherwise was extremely unsettling.

                The second secret door opened into what would have once been a grand sitting room. On the far side a large arch leaded to a large library and a spiral staircase. The furniture of the sitting room looked like it had once been made of hand carved wood, fine velvet and delicately woven fabrics.

                Baasha had been checking a small table by a large green velvet armchair when she let out a startled screaming, jumping backwards and drawing her bow. “It moved!”

                The it she spoke of, was not a chair, like she had first thought, but an emaciated corpse. It was so gaunt and covered in cobwebs. It was nearly completely sunken into the cushioned chair and thus easily missed.

                Undeath had not been kind to the protector of the temple. His head, which was no more than a skull with a thin layer of nearly transparent tissue paper like skin stretched across it, lolled to the side slightly. The corpse leaned forward, as if to get a better look at the group, though where there had once been eyes, there were now only empty, lifeless pits.

                It made no move to attack, but Dhamon hefted up his shield, the Sunsword glowing in his hand and ready to strike. Baasha was still trying to calm herself, with Mason placing a hand on her shoulder to steady her. Quintis was, nowhere to be seen, having snuck off into one of the shadowy corners of the large room, no doubt poised and ready to attack. Kasimir, who had gone to the library to search for information, was nowhere in sight either.  Alleria, though not shapeshifted, still appeared to have her hackles up. The presence of undead always put her on guard. Tallonon stood to her right, murmuring an incantation under his breath.

                “I know what it is you seek.” He corpse said, his voice dry as dust. “Know that if it were up to myself, I would turn it over without a struggle. But, my bond will not allow it.”

                It was Dhamon who spoke first, “Please, guardian, we have no desire to fight you. We require the Holy Symbol if we are to defeat Strahd and free this land.”

                Alleria gave the Paladin an incredulous look. “Speak for yourself, Dhamon. I will fight and kill this abomination. Have the Undead become so common place for you that you will parley with them like this?”

                Mason eyed Alleria and piped up. “Some of us would just like to return home. We have bigger fish to fry. Our quarrel is not with you...?” he let his words trail off, questioningly.

                “Exethanter. Though my name matters not.” The husk of the man rose, and though he looked like he should crumble to dust at the barest of movements, stayed completely intact. His robes were likewise tattered and threadbare, with the pieces falling off as he moved.

                “As I said, I cannot willingly aid you!” he voice was strong and firm, a complete contradiction to his form.  The air around him began to crackle with necrotic energy.

                The group took the show of magic as a sign that the conversation had ended and weapons were drawn. The dark energies swirling around the Guardian built and then exploded in a shockwave in all directions from him. 

                Those that were visible, were bowled over and laid out on their backs. But, not before the spell that Tallonon had been holding went off.  A large circle of glowing runes appeared on the ground where he, Alleria and Keening now were laid out.

                “Baasha, move to the circle!” The half-Drow called out from the floor.

                Shaking off the effects of the shockwave, they moved back to their feet. Alleria, still standing in the protective circle, took a minute to cast a spell as well. The air crackled and sparked around her as she murmured an incantation. 

                Mason moved to the circle as well, pulling out his blade and calling on the divine, “Valkur, aid my friends!” Again, a sea-mist like shimmer rained down on Dhamon, Alleria and Baasha.  Keening, deciding to stay in the safety of the runic circle as well, pulled out his lute and began to play.  His melodic voice paired perfectly with the notes of his instrument. The fervor of the song continued to build as the Bard recounted a tale of a brave Knight and his army who faced down an evil god and his demonic minions.

                Dhamon abandoned his sword and shield as he struggled to regain his footing. He was dead center of the path of the Lich, vulnerable and defenseless. As the husk of a man began to cast again, his frail boney fingers moving in an intricate pattern. Quintis leapt out from the shadows to attack.  With one expertly aimed strike, he slashed at its desiccated hands, severing one completely and leaving the other hanging by a bleached looking wrist bone. 

                There was no sound of pain from Exethanter, no verbal queue that he had just lost a hand, and nearly a second. “I still have magic enough to kill you all.” He hissed.

                Dhamon scrambled to his feet, equipping his shield before once again taking up the Sunsword. Baasha rolled to the safety of Tallonon’s circle and then popped up to her feet, taking up her bow and drawing an arrow in one fluid, well-practiced movement. Keening’s heroic tale of yore finished in concert with Alleria’s spell.  The room was filled with moonlight, as if a giant hole had been cut from the ceiling of the room. It centered on Exethanter and the radiant light caused the thin layer of flesh to pop and peel from his boney frame.

                Though Exethanter was far more formidable in death, than he had been in life, he was still no match for the sheer force and determination of the group. And, while in his heart, or whatever memory of what it had once been, he wanted to help the adventurers. Their quest aligned with his desire, as he too wished to be free. Whatever vow he had taken before he died, it permitted him from willingly sharing the secrets of the Amber Temple with anyone.

                “YOU WILL ALL LEAVE NOW!” he commanded, having to rely in spells that did not require him to use his hands. It was not the best choice of spells, given the protective circle.

                Dhamon was the only member of the party fully vulnerable to the command, but his Paladin discipline was strong enough that he would take no orders from the Undead.  Mason rushed up to assist Dhamon and both struck with the fury of the gods. Their magic blades slashed and cut into Exethanter’s frail form.

                Baasha, protected by the runic circle, ignored the command and let fly one arrow, and then another. At such a close range, her aim was impeccable and had the creature before them still been living, the arrows would have caused fatal damage. 

                They had no way of telling if they were hurting him. He didn’t bleed. He didn’t react to their blows. He didn’t show pain. His lack of hands didn’t seem to be slowing him down either.

                 “Enough!” he said in a harsh whisper and then, he was no longer standing in front of his chair.

                “Where did he go?” Baasha cried as she glanced around quickly.

                “I can’t see…I can’t see anything!” Dhamon cried out, waving his hands in front of his face. A cloud of inky blackness clung to the upper half of his face like a mask. He collided with Mason who was standing still, in one place, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

                Tallonon and Keening both turned around at the same time, to see the Lich had teleported inside of their protective circle and was in the process of casting another spell.

                “He must have stopped time!” Tallonon said as he reflexively fired off two bolt of crackling energy at the desiccated mage.

                Keening, stumbled back, dropping his lute. Clearly he was more disturbed than the others by being so close the horrific sight that was the temple’s Guardian. He nearly cried out the words of his spell, “You were a failure in life and in unlife as well!” The Bard mocked, though not very viciously.

                Tallonon’s blasts slammed hard into its chest, the cracking of brittle bones accompanying it. The spell also knocked him backwards and out of the protective circle.

                Alleria chose to cease the magic moonlight, rather than move it to where Exethanter had reappeared. With Dhamon temporarily out of the fight, she shapeshifted into a large white bear and moved in close.  With her large clawed paws, she swiped at the Mage and then leaned in to bite deep into its boney shoulder. She hoped to distract it so the others could wear it down with precision shots and magic.

                Quintis was eager to oblige, moving in behind Exethanter to stab twice at lightning fast speed with his rapier.  Baasha, not to be outdone by Quintis’ swiftness, volleyed another pair of holy oil dipped arrows in rapid succession.

                Still, they had no immediate sign they were winning or losing.

                “I tried to make you leave, I tried to spare you, but you wouldn’t listen. So be it.” The guardian wheezed. He focused intently at Mason, black necrotic energy swirling around him as he opened his mouth to speak once again.

                At that moment, Kasimir walked back into the sitting room, an open book in one hand. “Friends, I believe I have…” He blinked a single time as he surveyed the scene in front of him, and though as if without much thought, he raised his free hand and pointed a finger at the Lich. His lips barely moved and a ray of sickly green energy sprung from his finger, connecting with its target.

                None of them, least of all Exethanter, had time to react. His body was already barely one step away from dust, and the spell reduced him to nothing more than a pile of powder.  Glinting in the pile was a silver sun shaped amulet with a large red gem in the center.

                Tallonon stepped forward and picked up the amulet, studying it closely. “I do believe this is it.” He said and looked up at the others. “Mason should have it.”

                Mason’s stun was starting to wear off and Dhamon was blinking, his vision slowly coming back.

                Kasimir looked perplexed by the situation. “I fear I cannot leave you lot alone for a single moment. How did you manage before I came along? Surely you should have all perished.” He looked to Mason. “He was about to speak a Death Word at you. You’re extremely fortunate I came back when I did. Now, as I was saying, I do believe I have found the source of the magics I need to bring back my sister. Would you care to accompany me?” He paused and then added, “Perhaps you should, for your own safety.”

                They insisted on resting for a few minutes, to give Mason and Dhamon time to recover. When they were ready to travel again, Tallonon handed the holy symbol over to Mason. “I think this is best in your hands. Hopefully your god will not be jealous.”

                “Valkur favors those who solve their own problems. I believe this relic will aid in doing just that.” Mason said with a wide grin. He clasped Tallonon on the shoulder, smiling at his half-Drow comrade. He put the chain around his neck, hiding the symbol under his shirt.

                While they were still quite spent, the group followed Kasimir into the library and down to the lower floor. He led them to a side room with three dusty sarcophagi. “This one, here…” he motioned to the one in the center. “It told me…”

                “It told you?” Alleria asked, her nose crinkled up in more than mild distaste.

                “Yes, it told me that it would grant me the power to resurrect the dead.” He explained, sounding completely casual about it.

                “At what price?” Alleria asked. “Do you not have any priests that could bring back your sister?” The notion of using dark magic or ancient relics to bring back the dead did not sit well with her.

                “No, this is the only way.” The Dusk Elf said, firmly and fearing one of them would try to stop him, he touched the sarcophagus. Before their eyes, he transformed into something that looked very different. His skin paled to the point of looking translucent, his veins visible in many places. Patches of his hair fell out and his eyes went milky white as well. Even a few of his teeth fell out. In short, he looked like he had become a ghoul.

                Keening recoiled, stumbling back and both Alleria and Baasha gasped something. It was Dhamon who spoke though, “Kasimir, you look…dead.”

                The grim looking figure nodded, his thin lips looking strained as he talked. “It told me I would take on the appearance of death. This is…” he looked down at his hands. “…more extreme than I had imagined. But, there was no price too steep to rescue my sister.”

                “Your people, will then accept you like this?” Alleria asked.

                “It matters not, my sister will be returned to me, and that is all that matters. I…” He hesitated, pulling his attention away from his hands. “I thank you for your help, but I must leave you now. Please, be careful, and good luck with Strahd.”  Without another word, Kasimir shuffled out of the room and off into the darkness.

                Though tempted to explore the rest of the temple to see what other treasures it might hold, it was decided that they would return to the upper floor and wait out the storm. They had all the items needed to beat Strahd, none of them wanted to delay that more than required. Luckily, they encountered no resistance, and made camp in a side room near the main entrance.  A lengthy discussion on what exactly to do next was not required and it was decided they would take the fight directly to Strahd.

                It was fortunate for them they had taken the full night’s rest, as the next day, when they stepped outside to check on the weather, they found they were surrounded by legions of undead. At first, the situation seemed manageable, as they cut down a dozen or so skeletons with relative ease. Then the flameskulls arrived, and then a wave of vampire spawn and ghouls.

                It wasn’t long before they were completely outnumbered and overwhelmed. One by one, each of them fell to their wounds or were knocked unconscious.


	12. The Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alleria wakes up in Castle Ravenloft and is confronted by Strahd. He would like to strike a deal with her.  
> Short chapter, but it felt like it should stand alone.
> 
> * * *

                For one who doesn’t sleep, who’s mind is never truly switched off, coming to and not knowing where you are is extremely disconcerting. Alleria sat up, quickly glancing around to assess her predicament. She saw her friends nearby, laid out in similar fashion on rough stone slabs. They were unconscious, but unbound.

                “I was hoping you would be the first to wake.” Count Strahd von Zarovich, the Devil of Barovia, stood before her. His voice was cold and stark, devoid of any emotion. He cut an impressive silhouette in the dim candle light of the large room.

                Stepping closer, he raised his hand to show her a glass vial. “As I am sure you have discovered by now, I have ruled this land for a very long time.” He paused, almost as if for dramatic effect. “The mists have brought many people here, before you and will continue to do so long after you are…gone.” He stressed the last word, more than implying he did not mean gone as in going home.

                “None have gotten as far as your little band has, but that does not mean I had not planned for such an event.”  He stayed stone still as he spoke, his voice unwavering.

                Alleria listened closely, without comment. She knew it behooved her to remain calm, that out right attacking the Vampire Lord would accomplish nothing, but perhaps her own end. Still, it was difficult. Her jaw had already begun to ache from clenching.

                “Now, I may not be able to send you home, but I do have something else that might persuade you to…stay your hand.” He held the small bottle up again, shaking it this time, so that the thick silvery liquid inside sloshed around.

                “And what would possibly interest me more than going home?” She asked curtly, her jaw still clenched tightly.

                “Why, your lover’s memories, of course.” A sick smile played on his lips as he waited for the Elf’s reaction.

                “How convenient.” She scoffed. “And for this gift, I am supposed to abandon my companions?”

                “I know your loss, child. Countless centuries of heartache.” Though there was no show of such heartbreak on his face. “Is that really what you wish?”

                “Not at the price you ask. Not if it serves to continue your evil.” Alleria’s voice was firm. She wanted that vial with all her heart, but she was not prepared to strike a bargain with a devil.  “Your offer is clearly motivated by fear.”

                She could hear the others starting to rouse behind her. “No, I think I will fight.” She slid down off the stone slab, shapeshifting into a large white bear as she did. “I will take Mason’s memories from your corpse, when we are through with you.”

                 “Then you are a fool!” he said, a flash of anger in his eyes. Before she could attack, he stepped away from her and phased through the wall as if he were mist.


	13. The Scourge of Barovia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party finally faces off against Strahd!
> 
> * * *

                Castle Ravenloft was filed with various traps and pitfalls, and it took the group several hours of searching before they crossed paths with Strahd again. They thought it had been luck, but he had drawn them to that location, feeling it granted him the greatest advantage.  The ambush scattered them like rats.

                The battle that ensued was not one that would be measured in minutes, but hours. As they had been taken by surprise, there had been little time to formulate an actual plan. Thus, the first portion of the fight served no purpose, only wearing them down as Strahd magically shrugged off their strikes. Even the cuts and slashes made by Dhamon with the Sunsword were brushed off. Meanwhile, Strahd battered against Dhamon and Mason’s shields repeatedly, wearing them down and slashing up their armor.

                When it became apparent to Tallonon that they were making no headway, he pulled Quintis aside.  Amid the battle, he urged Quintis to search the castle Strahd’s lair, to find his casket. “Use what you read in the Tome, find where he is vulnerable.” The half-Drow whispered.

                Quintis was the best suited for the task, skilled at discovering the hidden and slipping unseen through rooms of potential foes. Though Alleria could have just easily snuck through the castle as a bat or rat, Strahd would have noticed if the giant white bear had disengaged from the fight. It took Quintis only half an hour to find the location of Strahd’s casket, but equally as long to get back to the group, given the number of restless undead that walked the castle’s halls.

                Seeing the group was beginning to tire, Keening put away his short sword and took up his lute. He played a rousing and peppy tune, singing words about an underdog knight who bested a monstrous barbarian in single combat. Mason likewise pulled back from the fight to cast some healing magic on the group, closing some of their wounds.

                Using a combination of gestures and prestidigitation, Quintis successfully relayed the direction of which way they needed to move. With coordinated strikes, they maneuvered Strahd to the room that held his coffin.  It looked more like a fancy sitting room than an evil lair, though Alleria wasn’t sure what she had expected they would find – other than a coffin.

                The thick mists of the land might have blocked the sun’s light and made it difficult to tell dusk from dawn, but Strahd could still keenly feel the approach of a sunrise. He still needed to retire to his coffin for the daylight hours. And as dawn quickly approached, he was at his weakness. He had never dreamed the outsiders would have lasted this long, nor that they would find his coffin. He cursed himself for his own arrogance.

                The group didn’t rest, nor did they give up, even though up until that moment, he had looked as healthy as he had when they first encountered him. Then, one of Baasha’s arrows hit Strahd in the shoulder. It sunk deep into his pale flesh and blood trickled from the wound, staining his flawless coat.

                With the protection of the Crystal Heart used up, Strahd had to make the choice: flee or summon aid.   

                He was denied that choice as Mason disengaged from the fight. The priest pulled the silver and ruby holy symbol from beneath his shirt and activated it.  The room was bathed in a blinding burst of holy light and its effect was immediately apparent.  Strahd howled with pain, his flesh seared where the beams of divine light struck him. Even with half his face smoldering, he parried Dhamon with ease and effortlessly brushed Quintis aside. He was intent on reaching Mason to snuff out that holy light.

                Baasha buried another round of blessed arrows into the Vampire Lord’s torso. The large white bear attacked from behind, grabbing him by the back of the back of the neck to sink dagger sized teeth deep into what remained of his charred flesh.

                Stumbling back, away from Strahd, Mason managed to only just keep his footing, holding the religion icon aloft and aimed at Strahd.  “Valkur protect me!” he shouted, determination written plainly across his face. Dhamon likewise called out for divine assistance, “Torm, aid us in our quest!” He attempted to brace his shield against the Vampire Lord to impede his progress.

                Seeing Dhamon switch from offense to defense, the rest of the group followed suit. Tallonon rushed over to Mason, muttering an incantation as he did. He reached out and clasped the other Half-Elf firmly on the shoulder, a silvery glow shimmered around the Priest for a moment. “I’m no god.” he joked, “But, that should help protect you.”  Baasha continued to fire arrow after arrow at Strahd, this time aiming low on his legs to hamstring him.

                Keening watched Tallonon in awe as he moved to Mason – so close to Strahd – to cast a spell on him. He elected to do the same, just not so close. He did his best to skirt the room, keeping as much distance possible between himself and the vampire so as not to lose his nerve. He circled around behind the large white bear, and plucked a few hairs from its hind quarters, hoping that she wouldn’t bite him too. In the heat of the battle though, Alleria didn’t even notice. When he reached Mason, he cowered behind him, whispering a magic word and sprinkling the bear fur on him. “I hope this still works.” He said to Mason. A gold hued illusion of a bear seemed to rise from Mason’s head and shoulders before dissolving around him. He looked renewed, his surface wounds fading away.

                There was an unnerving scraping sound that echoed through the room as Strahd managed to take another step, dragging the bear along with him, her claws digging into the stone floor. Inch by hard fought inch, the Vampire closed in on Strahd. In one hand, an out stretched longsword pointed in his direction, the other hand free and grasping wildly at the air.  All the while, his exposed skin smoked and bubbled under the intensely bright light of the medallion.

                Mason took another step back for good measure, withdrawing his arm slightly so that Strahd couldn’t knock the relic from his hand, should he get closer.  “Die, foul creature.” He called out as he hefted his shield up close for protection.

                Layers of skin and flesh continued to fall off in chunks from the walking corpse. The bottom half of Strahd’s face was exposed to the bone, that too giving way to fall to the floor. His mouth, now just a gaping hole still managed to issue forth a blood curdling howl of anger and pain.

                The bear lost her hold on him as the part of his neck she had gripped in her mouth gave way as well. The chunk of charred muscle was immediately spat out on the ground and were a bear able to look nauseous, Alleria would be wearing that expression at the moment.

                 “You will no longer torment the good people of this land!” Dhamon said, his voice firm and full of conviction. He drew the Sunsword once again, intent on finishing off the Curse of Barovia.

                With Dhamon’s full weight no longer braced against him, and the bear’s maw no longer clutched around his neck, Strahd lunged forward. Though he was barely a being of flesh another blood any longer, he still had fight left in him. And magic. With his free hand, he pointed at Mason and despite the fact he no longer had a functioning mouth, managed to say: “Die!”.

                If it not been for the protection that Keening had placed on him, Mason would have likely perished before their eyes. Instead, he convulsed for a moment and screamed in agony. The Holy Symbol fell from his hand and rolled across the floor, coming to rest under a maroon velvet arm chair.  The room immediately felt colder for it. Writhing in agony, Mason crumpled and fell silent, the pain too great for him to bear.

                Seizing the moment to turn the tide, the Vampire Lord summoned reinforcements from inside the castle and its grounds. From somewhere outside, the muffled howl of wolves could be heard. Additionally, sounds of clawing and scraping echoed from the staircase. It was all Strahd managed as the group was upon him again.

                 “Don’t let him escape!” Baasha shouted before firing two more arrows at Strahd’s head. “He’ll heal!”

                Dhamon sprang into action. “Torm guide my hand!” With the bright light of the Holy Symbol of Ravenkind extinguished, Dhamon called on the divine sunlight stored in his magic sword. Once again, the room was bathed in holy light.

                Putting all their hopes on Dhamon now, the group rallied around him. Tallonon hasted him, while Keening inspired him with a song. Quintis did his best to wound Strahd from behind, distracting him with quick, sharp attacks.

                Having no magics to add Dhamon, Alleria continued to fight Strahd tooth and claw, still in the form of the large white bear.

                Knowing he needed to kill or at the very least, immobilize his foes. Strahd turned to Tallonon and shooting black tendrils from his hand, ensnared the dark-skinned warlock in a cocoon of twilight.

                The Vampire Lord’s other half charred hand reached for Keening and he spoke the word, “Mine!” The Bard froze on the spot, his eyes glazing over and went vacant looking for a moment. He unslung his lute and began to sing a rallying song.

                Normally they would have felt inspired, but this time it was Strahd that was bolstered by the Bard’s song. Still glass eyed and confused looking, Keening drew his short sword.  Rather than attacking, he dragged the blade across his hand murmuring a magic word.

                A dark red haze fell over Quintis, Dhamon and Baasha. It was subtle, but reminiscent of the magical effect of Valkur’s blessing Mason often called on.

                 “Good. Now kill your friend.” Strahd ordered.

                Keening raised his sword and advanced on Quintis. The musician was no match for the skilled duelist, but fending Keening off did keep Quintis preoccupied and out of the main fight.

                Feeling the effects of the Bard’s song, Strahd doubled his efforts as well, parrying most of Dhamon’s attacks with ease. One of his strikes hit Dhamon’s shield so forcefully it drove the paladin back a few steps.

                Strahd lunged forward to close the distance and tried to bite Dhamon on the neck. Lucky for him, his armor and helmet left little opening for the Vampire’s attack.

                The sound of scraping and clawing was getting closer and closer until they were finally revealed. Spilling down the stairs, skeletons poured into the room. Strahd’s first wave of reinforcements had arrived.

                Ignoring the chaos around him and focusing solely on Strahd, Dhamon pressed his attacks. So long as he struck with the Sunsword, Strahd couldn’t regenerate. Strahd matched Dhamon strike for strike.  As Quintis was preoccupied with Keening and Baasha arrows were less than effective against reanimated bones, Alleria turned away from Strahd to fight his minions.

                Outside the keep, the misty muted colors of dawn were starting to break. The physical signs of it might have not have been apparent to all, but Strahd could feel its approach. They had worked him into a corner, and he was getting desperate. He couldn’t turn to mist and feel, he couldn’t heal, his only hope was to kill them all. In only a handful of minutes. He tried to sway the Paladin again, but his will was too strong.

                Dhamon’s attacks were fueled by the sweet feeling of impending victory. Strahd was showing clear signs of wearing down.  His clothing was ripped and torn in multiple places, and blood has soaked through around the cuts. The white bear had the two remaining skeletons still fully preoccupied, and Baasha continued to pepper the Vampire Lord with holy arrows. Unlike Alleria, she seemed to miss more than a few shots, no doubt due to whatever magics Keening had used on them.

                Quintis made the difficult decision that he had to overpower Keening and get back into the main fight. Jumping back from the Bard, Quintis picked up a nearby chair and bashed Keening hard across the back with it. Keening fell to the floor, unconscious. The red mist that clung to Dhamon, Baasha and Quintis dissipated. Strahd also looked far less – inspired.

                From somewhere in the castle, perhaps the floor above them, came the howling of wolves. More of Strahd’s reinforcements were closing in.

                Free to join the fight against their main foe once again, Quintis braced his foot against the chair he had knocked Keening out with and broke off one of its legs.  He tucked it into his belt, just case they needed to impale Strahd in the heart to finish him off.

                Alleria was down to a single skeleton, and Baasha, out of arrows had dropped her bow and moved to Tallonon to see if she could remove the magical bonds holding him in place.  The bear’s scarred white fur was dotted with blood from the skeleton’s sharp boney fingers. Despite this, she decided to turn her back on the animated bones, to help Dhamon and Quintis with Strahd. She hoped it was focused enough on her that it would just to continue to claw away at her back.

                The three of them closed in, forcing Strahd back until he was pressed up against his coffin. A look of rage and disbelief etched on his face. He tried again to take control of Dhamon’s mind, but failed. In desperation, he tried Quintis, and then the bear but found their Elven heritage too difficult to break through. He could hear his minions on the way, but was sure it would arrive too late.

                He risked a counter attack, but Strahd made a gesture with his free hand and murmured a magic word. A blast of icy wind blew from his hand, knocking Dhamon and Quintis back, several feet away from him.  The bear was not moved by the blast, holding firm in the face of the undead despot. She lunged forward to grab him in her toothy maw. In a similar quick movement, the Demon Strahd leaned in to bite the bear, his vampiric canine’s visible from behind his sneering lips. The shapeshifted druid’s bite was far more devastating, and when Strahd reeled back from his miss, most of his casting arm’s shoulder was left in the bear’s bloody jaws.

                He screamed in pain, his eyes wild with disbelief and rage. Distracted by his wounds, Strahd didn’t notice Mason had regained consciousness and Baasha had managed to free Tallonon.  He had sealed his own fate by knocking Dhamon and Quintis across the room. They were no longer in range of the column of divine fire that Mason dropped on top of the Scourge of Barovia. The fires hit Alleria as well, but Mason knew that at the worst the damage would only knock Alleria back into her natural form. When the pillar of fire finished falling from the sky, all that was left of the Devil Strahd was a charred husk. His clothing had likewise been burned away, as was most of his skin and hair.


	14. Picking Up The Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the death of Strahd. What happened to Mason's memories? What will become of Alleria and Mason?
> 
> * * *
> 
> Yes, there will be a part 2! The story isn't over yet!
> 
> * * *

                 “Is he dead?” Baasha asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

                 “After that he sure should be.” Mason replied, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

                Alleria rolled over, coughing and wheezing. “I would have appreciated a little warning.” She said in a dry, sarcastic tone.

                Dhamon and Quintis helped each other to their feet, the former inhaling deeply as he looked down at the burnt corpse of Strahd. Baasha helped Tallonon to his feet and the went to check on Mason.

                Quintis walked past Strahd, nudging the corpse with his foot before going to take care of Keening. “Mason, you have any healing left? I gave him quite the blow.”

                The howls of the wolves from within the castle had stopped when Strahd died.

                 “Aye, friend. I can fix him up. Just give me a moment or two. My head is still spinning like a whirlpool.” Mason replied, from the floor, leaning against a bookcase.

                Dhamon bent down to retrieve his sword and shield, stowing them back in place on his persons. Alleria, with the help of a steady, high backed arm chair, pushed herself to her feet. “I cannot remember the last time I felt so relieved.”

                Baasha nodded her head in agreement and started collecting any salvageable arrows that were spared from the fire. “Praise Valkur for that holy fire.” She said, sparing a glance at the corpse.

                Feeling only slightly worse for wear, Alleria went to Strahd’s charred corpse. There was nothing left of his grand outfit. She had planned on searching him for the vial of memories, but nothing had survived to search. The irony of Mason possibly destroying his own memories was lost on Alleria. Without telling the others why, she started a thorough search of the room. Quintis, seeing Alleria searching, assumed it was time for his second favorite part of the fight – looting.

                The room had an endless number of places to hide a tiny glass vial. Bookcases, desk, coffin and end tables. And this was just one of the many possible hundreds of rooms in the Castle.

                There was no doubt Quintis was extremely skilled at what he did, and thus no surprise that he was the one to find the hidden compartment in Strahd’s writing desk.

                The low appreciative whistle he made signaled to Alleria that he had found something interesting. She went over to him, peering over his shoulder to check out his find. There, amongst his tokens and trophies, was the tiny jar of silvery liquid. Thinking it just a potion, Quintis had over looked it.

                 “I will take that one, if you have no objections.” She said, reaching past the Rogue to snatched Mason’s memories.

                Keening had been tended to and was back on his feet, asking a dozen questions about what exactly had transpired. Tallonon had turned his attention you the walls of books, having already selected several and stowed them in his pack.

                Baasha went to the staircase and looked up. “Is no one else not dying to see if the mists have really lifted?” She asked with a slight smile.

                Mason joined the brown-haired huntress at the bottom of the stairs, chuckling. “Aye. Let’s go see if we are truly free to return home.” He places his arm around her waist and started up the stairs.

                One by one, the rest followed up the stairs, relieved to be done with this place.

                With Strahd dead, the curse upon the land of Barovia had been lifted. The sky was brighter it had been their entire time there and it was only just over the horizon in the East. If it weren’t for the creepy castle behind them, they could have been back in Faerun already.

                Alleria had several opportunities to give Mason back his memories, on the walk back to the Gates. She wanted to have another discussion with Mason about all that happened. Something to soften the blow.

                It hadn’t even crossed her mind that he might not want them back. That his negative feelings towards Elves might stop him from even taking them from her. In the end, Alleria debated and delayed right up to the Gates.

                Her chance to win Mason back slipped through her fingers before she even realized it was happening. Mason was so eager to return home, he did so without so much as a good bye to Barovia. Dhamon, Quintis and Keening all passed through next. When it was Baasha’s turn, caught her by the arm.

                 “In case we do not all wind up together on the other side. Would you please see that Mason gets this.” she put the vial in Baasha’s hand and closed her fingers around it protectively.

                 “Whatever that is, it’s giving off a blinding magic aura.” Tallonon said as her peered intently at Baasha’s clasped hand.

                 “It’s Mason’s memories. Strahd kept them, so I took them. I was not quite sure how to broach the subject with him. Please see that he gets them, so he can decide for himself.”

                 “May your gods keep you.” Alleria added, to both Baasha and Tallonon, before stepping through the Gates and out of sight.


End file.
